Fears Within a Dream
by Rue Marie
Summary: Enter an alternate dimension. A world that preys off of past experiences and lingering feeling of guilt, sorrow, and pain. It brings your subconscious into its surroundings, twisting them and pulling you into horrid predicaments.[Visceral]
1. Prologue

This story has a very Grotesque structure. It also has many symbolic things and has many hidden meaning. And can be labled as 'surreal.'

I expect to get little to no reviews for this, because well, it is not the normal style of a fiction...but if your reading this now, I appreciate you trying it out.

I recently began working on this story again, and will soon be at an end, though chapters will be edited and replaced.

And so, onward we go.

* * *

**Fears Within a Dream...**

A young girl of eleven, in dull day dress, clutching a bouquet of death flowers in one hand and standing at a black, iron gateway to a cemetery is quite the depressing portrait. Though, there it was displayed, brought alive only by a cold breeze that ruffled the skirt of the dress' hem, swiped at her short, black hair. She stared with a far off gaze into the maze of splintered headstones and grim cenotaphs, which quantities grew as they continued past the slope. She felt so insignificant under the towering statues, standing amongst the strange, reflective shadows they created on the pathway.

An unfamiliar longing passed over her; some invisible force seemed to be pulling at her chest. She felt a strange, intense sentiment. As if something long forgotten laid in with the dead, expecting her. The girl took a shuddering breath, stepping forward absentmindedly toward the gates, hand only inches from the bars. She gripped the cold iron, putting momentum onto the heel of her right foot, readying to pull the gate open. She immediately halted, hearing her mother's stern tone.

"Meg." Her mother called, barely turning to look back at her daughter. Meg merely tilted her head in her mother's direction to acknowledge her, though she did not budge. Someone had said something, someone whom was not her mother. The voice was melodious, soft and awfully sad. Her name, someone was calling to her.  
"Marguerite!" Her mother tried again whilst turning round sharply, obviously irritated. "Come along."  
"Maman..." Meg trailed off, turning her head to her mother, continuing to look over at the cemetery, now placing her full attention on her mother. "Why do we not visit Papa's any longer?"  
"We have not visited the grave for years Marguerite. Why do you ask that now?"  
"I do not know...we just have not walked this way in so long. It reminded me..." She said quietly, not sure if her mother had even heard her. Meg knew her mother always avoided this route.

It was not that she really desired to visit her father's gave, she could barely remember him at all now, and the thought gave her no grief any longer. But someone was in there; she had heard a voice."Marguerite, it may rain." Her mother responded emotionlessly.  
"May we drop off a flower? Just one? Quickly?" Meg asked hopefully, letting go of the gate and now cradling the bouquet of asphodels carefully in both hands  
"No. Stop dallying." Her mother motioned for her to come and turned round, beginning to walk off.  
End of discussion.

Meg shuffled forward in a pout then picked up into a slight run to catch up with her mother, a strong breeze bring up the fallen leaves upon the ground. The rustling noise startled Meg and she looked down, watching the leaves whirl round her feet. A small gasp escaped her throat as the leaves began to move; true, leaves blown by the wind clearly move, but the motion of these leaves were almost unnatural. It was as if they were creating some sort of pattern, or participating in a sad waltz. Meg watched in wonderment for a moment, expression turning into confusion as a strange sort of ringing began to echoed in her ears; it felt as if the noise was coming from inside her own mind. Her brow contorted in concentration as she listened to the ringing as it grew in volume. Is was then she realized, with wide eyes, that it was not a ringing of bells, not a ring at all. It was a scream, someone was screaming in fear.

Abruptly, the leaves changed direction and fluttered violently about. Meg yelped loudly, jolting forward and into her mother. She took in a deep breath, stepping quickly in place in a failed attempted to keep her feet off the ground while clinging to her mother. Suddenly, Meg stopped; realizing the leaves had stopped moving long ago. Had she just imagined it? The leaves were so still, as if they had not stirred at all.

"Marguerite! Honestly girl, what in the world are you doing?" Her mother's sharp voice caught Meg's attention and she realized she was clinging.  
"Sorry Maman...I thought I saw something." Meg let go of her mother; glancing back at the leaf covered path. A crunching sound brought Meg's attention to the ground below her. She frowned, realizing she had dropped the bouquet and was now stepping on it. "Oh Maman..." Meg mumbled, reaching down to grab the fallen flowers.  
"Forget them dear." Her mother's voice said with a sigh, reaching for her hand and pulling Meg forward.

Meg remained quiet, listening to the sound of their footsteps. The sky rumbled above them and Meg looked at her mother, though she seemed to have note noticed. Sighing, Meg turned her attention forward, eyes growing wide and her mouth opening in awe as rain began to fall. Not on them, but up ahead, in a single row. It slowly began to spread, seemly in slow motion, inching toward them as they walked. The sky grew darker around them as the rain passed overhead. Meg looked up, mouth agape. She flinched as she felt the beginning rain patter on her face, which had began to suddenly fall in normal rhythm. Only did she feel the rain, it caused not a sound, the rain was mute.

In wonderment, she looked up at her mother, black hair sticking to her face. Her mother was not responding, did she not feel the rain? Curiously, Meg looked across the street at the few people passing by. They walked on as if it were a summer day. Puzzled, Meg looked up to the sky, licking her bottom lip. In surprise, she flinched, not expecting to taste salt. These were...tears? Meg looked forward; normally girls in her position would be frightened and call to their mothers, but Meg only stared with an expression of utter sorrow. Who could possibly cry all these tears?


	2. Erinys

Good to see some of the people whom reviewed my previous fic. Hello guy! .. Well, yes anyhow.

**Gerfan:** Aw, well thank you! I liked the rain too. Hope this is soon enough.  
**Shortstef:** It will go all over the place, I am writing this to be as strange as possible, because it is fun!  
**YiyangYoung:** Well, the symbols are not easy to catch. This whole fic should make you have to think. Or, at least I aimed for that.

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream  
**

The Paris byroad was alive with conversation that January afternoon along with footsteps of hurried strangers and the sounds of public houses. Meg stood before the vast black gates, looking back at the street. Something did not feel right. Whilst staring, an overwhelming feeling come over her. That if she passed beyond these gates, she would never return again. Meg let out a long breath, the cold making it visible as she turned her back to the face the gate. After so many years of avoiding, she was surprised that she still had to lift her head to gaze upon the top of the statues. She sighed, turning her attention on the gateway.

Meg stepped forward, laying her right hand firmly on a bar and pushing. The gateway creaked as it was opened a few feet, stopping, the chain carrying out in an eerie ring as it settled. Meg hesitated, slowly stepping forward onto cemetery ground. Leaves crunched below her feet as she warily continued, glancing over repetitively. Her current setting made her uncomfortable, it wasn't much the thought that she was wandering through a graveyard, but that it felt as if someone were there with her. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage and forcing herself to look ahead. Meg would no longer avoid this place, despite how much she despised it for making her loneness real.

Minute after minute brought her further into the bleak maze, past the many headstones, past the wondrous, but dreary, statues of religious individuals. Soon Meg could no longer hear the noise of the street, or feel the simple relief of knowing others were around. Though, she could not say she felt along, on the contrary, with each grave she pasted eyes seemed to be following her. Meg fought the basic reaction to turn and find who was watching her, if anyone at all. Perhaps it was just paranoia?

Meg stopped, listening to her surrounds. Everything seemed normal. With a small "huh" she turned around. The stalking eyes seemed to disappear. A small shutter ran down her spine as she turned to look at the headstone in front of her. Meg's expression turned to on of grief as she knelt on the ground. A sob caught in her throat as she reached out her hand to run her fingertips over the engraved lettering. "Maman.." Meg said softly, drawing her hand away from her mother's name. Tears filled her eyes as she stared in pain at the lettering. "I am so sorry.. forgive me. It is so hard to come here." She murmured, trying not to burst out in tears. "Maman." She repeated, bowing her head in a prayer like motion.

When Meg lifted her head, tears were running down her cheeks. She wiped them away carelessly with her hand. Sniffing as she stared with blurred vision at the headstone. It was then a voice reached her ears, confused, Meg glanced around. Still it continued, even when she pinpointed its direction. The strange voice seemed to be calling her, beckoning her. She stood precariously, staring listlessly in the direction of the voice, trying to determine the gender. Though the voice seemed to be beyond human coherence, Meg wondered if it was even saying anything at all, it seemed to just be whispering. All she could understand was her name. It was then Meg realized how much closer the voice was becoming, getting closer with each unearthly word it murmured. Meg fought the curiosity to follow the calling voice, and instead, she turned and ran.

Fast, panicked breaths passed from Meg's lips as she ran. Weaving in and out of the many grave markers. Still the voice never seemed to leave her. Perhaps its owner was faster then her, or inhuman. Meg looked back, stumbling slightly and cursing herself from committing the normal mistake of looking back. Whoever looked back when being chased was sure to fall as a victim. Finally, Meg stopped, breathing irregularly as she listened. The voice had stopped, and Meg leaned against a statue of a young lady kneeling with a bouquet of flowers, trying to catch her breath.

She remembered years ago, when she had heard the beautiful voice from within this very graveyard, and saw the bizarre things she did. Although, the memories of that day seemed to have fogged over and she only remembered small parts. But the voice, she remembered that well. It had been that of a man and was certainly not the one she had heard minutes before. Who would be out here with the mind to haunt her? What had she done? Hastily, Meg began to walk erratically in the direction she thought the gate to be, her legs hurting from the panic driven run. She heard a noise from behind her, startled, she spin around to look. As she did, whispers sounded around her. There seemed to be no direction they were not coming from.

Meg whirled about, unsure of what way to run. Confusion clouded her mind as she aimlessly ran off in a direction, stopping to look around randomly and change direction. Gasping for breath, Meg stopped, looking behind her. The whispers had stopped and Meg turned her head slowly to look ahead of her, yelping loudly at the face of chipped Alecto. Meg placed her hand on her chest, a weak huff of laughter catching in her throat. The statue of the kindly one had frightened her unintentionally.With another deep breath, Meg readied to turn around, screaming when she felt a strong hand wrap itself in her hair. She thrashed though was brought back and forced forward. Meg closed her eyes as her head connected with the base of the statue and was released.

Whimpering, Meg crumpled down to the floor before Alecto's feet. Her head throbbing as she grunted, clumsily turning onto her back. Her vision was blurred from, not only the pain, but also the blood dripping down her forehead from the large cut just below her hairline. She stared up fearfully, not being able to focus on her attacker. All Meg could make out was the silhouette of her attacker as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Meg awoke, grumbling as she uncomfortable shifted on the cold cobblestone floor. She trailed her hand across the stones, grunting as she pressed her palms against the ground, trying to push herself up. Meg failed, hitting the ground with a soft thud. She growled in frustration, turning on her back and staring up at the heavens. Night blanketed the sky above her, surprising her. How long had she been unconscious? Along with that thought, came the questions about her attacker. Cautiously, she pushed herself up, fearing she could come face to face with the aggressor, but no one was there. Her brow contorted as she looked around, finding herself no longer in the graveyard; instead she was sitting on a large stone bridge.

Meg stood shakily, staring up at an enormously large manor like structure. The windows were draped and open, leading into darkness. Meg shuttered wrapping her arms around herself, realizing how much colder it was here. Now confused, she looked back down the bridge, which was lit poorly by street lamps. The end of the bridge was not visible; it actually seemed to never end from her current position. Meg reached up to feel her head where she guessed the cut was; though when she touched her head, nothing was there. Come to think of it, her head did not hurt at all. She looked back at the manor, which did not look much different then one Meg would see when taking a victoria through wealthy parts of Paris. The only difference was that this one look entirely abandoned.

Stepping back, Meg decided the smart thing do to was to make her way down the bridge and trying to find some indication as where she was. Turning, she began to make her way away from the manor. When she realized something strange. The cobblestone ahead seemed to be disappearing. Meg stared, blinking to make sure it was not her imagination. Yes, the cobblestone was defiantly disappearing and the rate was increasing the more she walked. "What in the name of God..?" Meg said aloud, staring in fear and stopping dead in her tracks. Even as Meg stopped, the cobblestone continued to disappear. Fear hit her like a brick. Meg turned toward the manor and began to run.

Meg looked back; yelping a bit as the row of disappearing cobblestone was only a foot away. She stumbled as the stones around her feet began to fade, leaping forward once before the stones were completely gone. Meg stopped, staring down in terror at the nothingness below her feet. Though, she did not fall. Meg would have been confused if fear did not have such a hold on her. Hesitantly, Meg stepped forward, closing her eyes as she walked. Soon enough, she hit a wooden door, the doorknocker clanging with the force. Meg opened her eyes questionably, surprised to find herself at the white manor door already. She looked back; gasping a bit as the bridge was visibly present. Meg grabbed at the doorknocker, still staring in puzzlement. Where in the world was she?

* * *

Unlike my last story, I will not explain things much. But I will tell you this; Alecto is on of an Erinyes from Greek mythology.  
Next chapter will bring more horror, and probably Erik. I am currently sick. Yes, the cough. It hurts the throat and the medicine makes me tired. So review to encourage me! With motivation, I will update tomorrow afternoon. Or Friday.  
Please review and, goodnight! Afternoon, something. o.o You know. 


	3. Magnificent

Sorry for the very late update. I have been very sick.. very. Rawr. It is not fair. Going to the doctor's Monday though, so yay.  
Thank for the concern. Ever heard of the Whooping cough? I suspect that is what it is.  
**  
YiyangYoung: **I have never seen Alice In Wonderland. o.O Wow, huh?  
**Gerfan:** Thank you! Then, I have succeeded somewhatly with all the suspense and what not.

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream**

Breathing deeply, Meg turned to look back at the manor, lifting her head to observe the towering eerie structure. She slowly looked forward, tapping the knocker with a finger as if to test it for heat. After another minute of examining it, she came to the conclusion that knocking would not cause a problem. Quickly, she grabbed the knocker and slammed it four time, when finished she pulled her hand away hastily, stepping back to wait for someone to come. But, no one did.

Annoyed, Meg grabbed for the knocker and knocked again, this time being bolder. Still no one did answer. She sighed out of annoyance, leaning the side of her head against the door. Meg listened for a moment, then growled a bit. "The road insists I knock, but yet no one answers." She said with a sigh, narrating herself and leaned away from the door, arms akimbo. "Excuse me, is anyone there?" Meg called loudly; looking up and stepping back as she did so. For a minute, no one answered. Before Meg could call again she was replied by the click of an unlocking door. She turned her attention to the door, head tilting subtly as it swung open slowly.

The door lead into nothing but thick darkness and for a moment, Meg thought there was nothing even there. "Hello?" Meg called, feeling quite stupid. Suddenly, a soft, dim light flooded over her. A strange noise admitted from her throat as she shielded her eyes with one hand as the light hit them. She blinked repeatedly as her eyes adjusted, lowering her hand slowly to gaze into the stunning main hall. Slowly, she began to step forward onto the marble floor, seemingly hypnotized by the eloquent designs. Meg looked up; mouth opening in awe at the enormous, red ruby enameled chandelier which eerily illuminated the hammer-beam ceiling.

As Meg walked across the sparkling floor, which reflected diamonds from the chandelier above, the hem of her day dress swept over it as well. Quietly, a composition began playing around her in adagio tempo. Softly, it seemed to dance throughout the vast hall, echoing off the walls and gliding past Meg. She turned quickly, listening as the music began to fade up the northwest stairwell, seemingly sliding up the pearl white steps.

Meg glanced back, unsure if she should follow her own curiosity. Though, someone had let her in, right? Surely they would not mind. With that, Meg smiled mischievously, beginning to make her way to the northwest stairwell. She stopped when reaching the stairway, admiring the fanciful wrought iron sides. Clumsily, Meg grasped all she could of the front skirt of her dress with both hands, pulling it off the ground some so she could make her way up the stairs. As she stepped, the adagio became louder and Meg got the feeling she was getting closer.

It began subtly at first, fluffs of gray powder softly swirling in the air as the back of Meg's dress trailed over the steps behind her. The amount of dust grew, despite the spotless floor.

At the top of the stairwell; Meg stopped, dropping the clenched fabric of her dress. She leaned to the right, attempting to see down the shadowed hallway in front of her. "Hello? Anyone here?" She called, beginning to walk toward the hallway slowly, someone had to be here, someone was playing music. Meg stopped before passing the corner into the hallway to look around one last time when a sudden loud slam seemed to shake the ground she stood on and the music stopped with a screech. Startled, Meg turned her head swiftly to look down the hallway, though nothing seemed to have changed at all. "Hello?" Meg said, her voice carrying on down the hallway, the only answering being the increasing volume of the music. For a moment, Meg stepped back, contemplating if she should turn away. Though, she simply took a deep breath and began walking forward.

Before Meg could take another step she felt someone's arm wrapping around her waist from beside her, pulling her around the corner. Meg opened her mouth to scream; though was muffled when her mouth was covered firmly by a gloved hand. A strange noise admitted from her throat as she felt herself being pulled against her attacker. "Quiet!" A male's voice whispered in her ear, and so instead of screaming, she began to thrash against him. Meg heard him curse; though he managed to keep his strong hold on her. "Stop!" He hissed angrily and Meg found herself immediately obeying. "Good, now, compose yourself. I am not going to harm you." Meg felt the man's grip loosen on her waist and he slowly removed his hand from her mouth. Meg slid from his hold and whirled around to face him. Her eyes grew large, and her mouth opened subtly in surprise.

Meg watched as the visible side of The Phantom's brow contorted and he sighed. "Phantom of the Opera, I know. If I had time for the proper introduction, I would have made it much more theatrical." He said, gesturing with one hand limply for, what Meg imagined, drama. She continued to stare at him with a dumbfounded expression, unable to speak. The Phantom placed his hands on his hips, staring at her impatiently. "Well? You speak, do you not?" He said listlessly, and Meg simply nodded dumbly in response. Though, when The Phantom waved her off with a growl and turned to look down the hallway, Meg suddenly was snapped back to reality. He seemed to be extremely anxious.  
"Do you.. do you know, by any change, where we are?" Meg said hesitantly, holding up her hand as if she would tap his shoulder and jolted back when The Phantom turned around. He had a very weary expression, though it faded from his face and was replaced with a smirk.  
"Your guess is as good as my own, though I would call it hell, mademoiselle." He responded, glancing over as if he had saw something of interest.  
"Hell? What do you mean, this looks so magnificent..." Meg trailed off, now looking quite confused. "I do not understand, who lives here?"  
"Magnificent? Are you blind?" He said turning his attention back onto her and ignoring her first question.  
"Blind?"  
"Look around you!" He said harshly, gesturing behind her. Meg stared at him as if he was insane, though she stopped when she noticed the illumination from the chandelier beginning to wane. She turned, gasping as she did so. Networks of cobwebs hung from the chandelier, the floors were now coated in layers of dust as well of the stairs, expect the trail Meg's dress had made on the way up. The hammer-beams has lost all shine, and were now gray with filth, certain sections seemed to be decaying. A small whimper of disbelief passed from Meg's lips and she staggered over to the railing, looking down to the floor below. She studied the trails of footsteps leading through the dust, all seeming to disappear in random places as if the person had disappeared.  
"I am sure I passed through here in my terrors. Not quite sure. Rarely has the manor shifted into its normal state." The Phantom mentioned quietly, seeming to speak more to himself. "I do not know why you are here, Mademoiselle Giry. I was certain this was all for me. How disappointing." He mumbled the last part with extreme sarcasm.

Meg looked over at The Phantom in horror, "What is going on? I was in the cemetery, Monsieur! Someone attacked me! Outside, the road disappeared." She pointed toward the front door in distress.  
"Mademoiselle. I do not know, but you must leave." Swiftly, he moved forward and grabbed Meg's wrist, beginning to lead her down the staircase. Though half way down he stopped unexpectedly. Meg blinked blankly as he stopped, flinching when he turned around quickly to face her. "I am sorry." He said, releasing her wrist.  
"Sorry? Monsieur, what do you mean?" Meg said quietly as the Phantom ran past her up the stairs, stopping at the top and turning to look down at her.  
"The door, Mademoiselle." He said despondently and Meg turned to look at the inexistent door.  
"The-.. where is the door?" Meg said, starting to make her way slowly down the rest of the stairs, staring in disbelief at the blank wall in front of her. As Meg reached the wall where the entrance once stood, she ran her trembling hands over it. "Where is it?" She shouted, pawing at the wall in vain. Abruptly, Meg stopped, turning to look up at the Phantom, shouting so that her voice carried out through the large hall. "What have you done?"

* * *

Reason for me calling Erik, The Phantom. Because well, I want to. o.o Actually, not really, I kept typing Erik on accident. He will be going away soon, but will come back.  
Update is iffy, probably Monday sometime, depending on if my muse chooses to leave me again and the sickness becomes to much.  
Review review!


	4. Smile

Still sick, oh joy. I actually wrote something like this when I was soupy on cough medicine. I ended up writing nonsense and it turned into some kind of strange humor story. o.O Thing. So, when in my right mind, I rewrote it.  
Doubt you all would want to read the insanity in my mind when I am on medicine. XD  
Anyways, this is still kind of shakey. I would like to fix it up as well, so if anyone is willing to give me a lengthy review(or e-mail) about it, I could be gracious.

**gerfan:** Thank you. I tried my best with the manor change, glad it worked out okay.  
**Orli's EEPs Chica**: Yay, you are reviewing my new story! I knew few would, see, so very few like gothic horror. I am glad you do! Sorry if this chapter isn't very good.

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream**

"Done? Oh, yes, of course. Mademoiselle, it simply disappeared." He mockingly shrugged and continued, "I am sorry to say you have been brought into a nightmare. Although, I offer my aid despite the fact that you have offended me. For you see Mademoiselle, as much as I pride myself on my many talents, you are completely mistaken." The Phantom said calmly, smiling smugly. This only added to Meg's fear and frustration, she felt as if he was insulting her. She ignored the voice in her head telling her to keep her mouth closed. The situation she was currently in seemed to completely fog the fear, and interest, she had for the man she was speaking with.

"You are quite arrogant." Meg said pointedly, glaring as the Phantom replied with a simple shrug. She began to walk forward into the middle of the room. "I do not understand why I am here, nor why you are. Actually, Monsieur I can not say I care. I do not wish to play your game. I want to go home. I do not even want to figure any of this out." She muttered the last part, feeling tears coming to her eyes. The whole situation was so bizarre and random, that she felt herself becoming emotionally unstable. It was then; Meg suddenly stopped and looked up the staircase at The Phantom. "I get it.. this is a dream." Relief washed over her and she smiled. "A dream."  
"A dream Mademoiselle? I am no dream." The Phantom replied listlessly. As he finished his comment, he began to look around, as if he expected someone else to be in the room.  
"And why not? You have been in my dreams before."  
"How demoralizing." He said, her comment bringing his attention back to her quickly receiving a disapproving look."Anyways, It does not matter. This is all a dream."  
"Mademoiselle, It is a dream indeed. Though, you and I, however, are not." He began making his way down the stairs with grace, his comment making Meg glance around in slight distress.

Meg looked over at The Phantom as he stepped down the last step and for a moment, Meg thought he was going to hit her, though he did nothing of the sort. "You must trust me, if you want to get through this. I can only help, but you must listen to me, understand?" His voiced was softer then usual, though it still held a bit of impatience. Meg was unsure if she could trust this phantom but it was not as if she had any other choice, wearily, she nodded. "All right," He took a deep breath, "In this manor, this place; you will see horrors you cannot imagine. Some worse then others. I cannot save you. You will have to go through quite a lot on your own. The things are similar to nightmares; I cannot explain them otherwise. Some appear at random, most in series. None are real, they will feel and appear to be, but are not nevertheless." As he was talking, Meg noticed a series of small cut across the visible side of his face that she had not seen there before. "Beside that, I do not know what else to tell you." The Phantom finished.

Meg stared at him blankly, she really had no idea what he was saying. If any of this was true or not. What these dreams meant, if anything at all. "You are.." She trailed off, deciding to ask another question, "How long have you been here?"  
"Not long." The Phantom's voice quieted, as if he was lying and he turned away in a reluctant manner.  
"There is another way out, surely a back door of some sort." Meg thought aloud, "I will be leaving now Monsieur." She said hurriedly, turning on her heel and quickly making her way to a side door as if his whole speech had not processed at all.  
"Marguerite, no!" She heard The Phantom yell behind her as she stopped before the door. Meg scoffed, ignoring him as she grabbed the dust coated doorknob, though she hesitated when she become conscious of the fact that he had just said her name. Before she could open her mouth to speak, she felt his cold grip around her wrist. Meg yelped as The Phantom wrapped his arms around her firmly from behind, in a seemingly gesture to protect her. Meg did not know if he was trying to stop her from opening the door, or simply hugging her, either way he was much to late as she had already opened the door. All Meg could see was black before a terrified gasp left her throat and a wave of shadow seemed to engulf The Phantom and herself.

When Meg regained consciousness, she found herself in the hallway she was going to walk down before The Phantom had grabbed her. Grunting, she sat up, leaning against the wall as her eyes adjusted. Meg took in an irregular breath, looking around for The Phantom, though found herself alone. The hallway had changed entirely and she found herself sitting in dust. This seemed to confirm the fact she had not been dreaming at all. Disgruntled, Meg stood, using the wall as support as she did so. Looking down the hall, she was surprised to find there was no doorway that lead into the main hall, only a wall with a dust covered mirror. Her face paled and she turned to look down the opposite side of the hallway.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, expect of the course the condition of the hallway itself. Cautiously, Meg began forward, walking very carefully as if something at any moment would jump out at her. She really had no idea what to make of The Phantom's speech about this place. Certainly, something was not right. Normal manors do not have doors that lead to waves of darkness or bridges that disappear. "Or sit in such an awful condition." Meg said aloud, absentmindedly trailing her hand across the wall. She began to think back to the cemetery and when she was attacked. An uneasy feeling washed over her as she thought, what if the attacker was in the manor as well? It would not be surprising. The last person she did expect to see was The Phantom, she had thought him dead long ago. Despite everything that was happening, a small smile played across her lips.

* * *

Erik is acting weird, Meg is extremely confused to the point were she has given up even trying to explain it to herself.  
Maybe, she will understand once she gets a taste of the terrors Erik was talking about? We will see next time.  
Now, if you are all like 'o.O' because of the strange-ness of the characters, know I have a reason. Oh yes, a very very good reason...  
I would laugh evilly, but I would end up coughing to death.  
Yay for you guys who are out of the ordinary and read this craziness!  
Review please! I will be forever greatful!


	5. Hospitality

This chapter started off as a iffy chapter. One I wasn't sure if I would like very much..  
But then! I kind of let my mind go and it came out like this! I like it more then I thought I would.  
Question: Should I change the summary? 

**gerfan:** Thanks!  
**Orli's EEPs Chica:** All questions will be answered, at the end! Well, the important ones anyways.  
Noooo! Not the fluff-Cowers- How cruel!  
And thanks you, the character reacts are hard to type. o.o  
**YiyangYoung: **Of course! You were suppose to be confused when he said that! And the thinking is great! That is what I aimed for!  
I have read a lot of Edger Allan Poe. Got two pages into that story and kind of got bored. Heh, I will read it some day though..  
Oh, and the comparison is flattering.

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream**

Meg had been living in her thoughts so long she had no idea how much time she had been walking in the dreary hallway. She sighed in annoyance, stopping as her hand ran along a torch-like iron wall sconce. Meg swayed a bit out of boredom, the dust flowing beneath her feet as she stared at a door to her right. Maybe she should try opening one? She had been walking down this forsaken hallway for who knows how long. Though, the thought of being wept into the unknown- alone, made her choose otherwise. She sighed, having no idea where to go from here. Meg was about to remove her hand from the scone when she hesitated, feeling a thick warm liquid running down her hand.

Instead of removing her hand immediately, Meg curiously looked to the scone. What Meg guessed to be blood, was seeping from the walls, mixing with the grime already present and slowly coming to the floor. She grimaced and yanked her hand away, a sound of disgust passing from her lips. She began to step away from it; stopping when she realized it was oozing out of the upper molding of both sides of the hallway. Meg brought her hand in front of her, turning it over and examining the blood when a horrible smell seemed to smack into her. In reaction, Meg clamped her left hand over her mouth and nose, screaming as she flung her hand away, realizing she had just wiped blood over her face.

Meg took off in a run, wiping her face with her sleeve though only succeeding in smearing the blood further. She glanced back and forward between the walls as she ran, watching as with every step, the liquid seemed to be thinning and getting brighter. It became more apparent that this was indeed, blood. When Meg began to hear splashing with her steps, she stopped immediately, taking deep breaths before gagging from the smell. Meg looked down at the blood puddles collecting on the floor, guessing that the blood was not going to stop running anytime soon. She rose her head in panic as she stepped in a small circle, looking from door to door along both sides of her. The blood continued to run profusely down the walls and Meg was sure if she did not pick a door anytime soon, a river of some sort was sweep her away.

Two certain doors had caught Meg's attention, both on the left side of the hall. In a hurry, she began to compare. Meg was determined to contain her panic so she could think logically. One doorknob looked as if it had been cleaned off, the gold metal shown clearly and looked untarnished. The cleanliness, unreasonably, made her feel as if civilization laid behind that door, despite that, Meg drew away from it, grabbing the other doorknob. She gave one last look around the hallway and opened the door.

Quietly at first, whispering began to sound from both ends of the hallway, alarming Meg and she quickly opened the door, looking back as she stepped into the darkness. The sound of footsteps trudging through the blood puddles echoed down from the left of her, Meg gasped a bit, moving into the darkness quickly and shutting the door hard behind her.

Meg was unsure why she had acted the way she did, what if whoever was running toward her was going to help? Or, it very well could have been The Phantom. Meg grumbled, looking back into the darkness, both of her hands still clamped around the doorknob. For good reason as well, seeing she could see nothing in the room at all, nor was there any sound. Meg doubted if she could even see her hand in front of her face, but the fear of falling into this darkness kept her from letting go of the doorknob. She turned her attention back to the outside, straining to hear anything. "Maybe it stopped.." Meg said aloud, really only to break the silence. She took a deep breath and opened the door, stumbling forward as it seemed to disappear right out of her hands. She whirled in a circle, completely surrounded by darkness now. She patted her thighs in an attempted to assure herself she was still solid. "Monsieur Phantom!" Meg called out abruptly, hoping that is was him who was in the hallway, and nothing answered her, not even an echo.

The sound of a piano and the dim glow of a light brought Meg's attention behind her and as she turned she felt herself sitting in a strange kind of wooden throne. The light got brighter, creating an eerie outline of a man in a top hat, his head bowed, hiding his face in shadow. A soft huff of laughter emitted from his mouth as his lips curled into a cruel kind of smile shown only by a line of white teeth. He sat opposite of Meg from a long stone table; two plates set only in front of both of them. The glassed were the only things full, both with red wine. Meg stared at him in confusion and she moved her feet uncomfortably. Startled by a sudden weight, Meg looked down seeing her feet were clamped and chained to the floor. She looked up at the man in fright, yanking her legs up in a wasted attempted to free herself.

"Welcome Mademoiselle..." The man's deep voice echoed through the dark room, the weak light above his head only barely laminating the table. Her eyes narrowed and she straightened up, not allowing herself to struggled in vain, as it would most likely only amuse him.  
"Your welcome lacks hospitality." Meg said coolly, trying to appear unphased.  
"Please, do excuse the terrible greetings." His voice was tinted with cruel laughter, "We do not get much company you see and almost ever that of a lady's..." His voice tailed off as he grinned, bringing his hand to his mouth.  
"Who are you?" Meg asked, trying to keep the anger out of her voice, whilst trying to keep from showing fear in her expression.  
"Not a very polite way for a lady to introduce herself, perhaps you are not a lady at all." He said mockingly, blowing smoke from his mouth. "A whore perhaps?" He quieted, waiting for an answer. Though Meg clenched her jaws and kept quiet, and after a moment, he continued. "Not very talkative are we? They're usually sobbing by now. My dear, you interest me." A cold bit of laugher followed. Meg felt his eyes on her and she shifted uncomfortably, trying her hardest not to say anything sharp. She had no idea what this man would, or could, do. "Potential." He paused, "Love, what will you provide for us?" He asked to himself, though announced loudly in a bloodcurdling cheer-like tone that made Meg shudder.

"Wha-" She began unsteadily, though was quieted by the man as he made a motion.  
"Do not speak now! I have the perfect representation of you!" He stood with a bit to much enthusiasm, this chair flung back and clattered off into the darkness, startling Meg as it did so. "Intelligent, beautiful, stubborn... thoughtful." He brought his hand to his face and Meg stared at him, praying with all her heart that the crazy man would stay at the other end of the table. "So fine-looking.." He trailed off, staring at Meg intensely, so much so that Meg could not help but scowl.  
"What, are you talking about?" She said in a cold tone, speaking each word very clearly. He chuckled, and straightened up, running two fingers across the brim of his hat, tilting it more to completely hide his face.  
"Dear, you have the physique of a ballerina.. You dance?" He asked and Meg got the feeling he was trying to hold back laughter.  
"Yes.." Meg answered warily, unsure of where he was going with all this.  
"Wonderful." He said simply and Meg felt herself being pitched back in the chair.

Meg let out small scream, a huff of breath passing from her lips as the chair hit the floor with her in it. She groaned, trying to move her feet but finding them still chained. Her head had hit the back of the chair as she fell. She could see the light was still on though it nearly did not shine on her at all. Meg had fallen half into the dark and was unaware if the bizarre man was still present. Though, she quickly found out when she saw him towering over her, somehow still hidden by shadows. He raised something in his hands, it glinted as the light shone on it and he smiled wildly, "Let the games- Begin!" He shouted, laughing as he hurled the metal pipe into Meg's kneecaps.

Searing pain ran through Meg's body as she screamed in agony. She had felt each snapping bone as her kneecaps shattered. Had heard the disturbing _crack_ as metal hit bone. Blood ran in trailed down her thighs and began to soak into the bundled skirt of her dress as she continued to scream. An immeasurable amount of pain throbbed through her head as she took as deep, vicious breath. Her legs began to shake uncontrollably, causing her to only scream more. Her turned her head to the side, uncontrollable fits of whimpers and cries emitting from her throat as she sobbed. The pain seemed unbearable and felt as if it would never cease.

* * *

No real end note. Although, you all should be happy. For I was going to end it ealier then this. It would have been a -gasp- cliffhanger. But I know how you all hate those.  
Still sick. I will not be updating anytime during the weekend. Staying over at a friends. Sorry.  
Sooo... sadly, this will be the last update until, I say, Sunday. Perhaps I will tomorrow.. hm..  
Reviews reviews! I love them. Even if there are so few. Please tell me if you like- or do not like.


	6. Nonetheless

Wow. o.o Can we all say long? Compared to my other chapters.Yes, MUCH longer then I thought. I got on a roll, good for you all huh? Well, this will make up for my leave!  
Anyone miss Erik? You will be happy then.  
Ahh! Byonce or whomever that girl is, is singing 'Learn to be Lonely' on the Oscars. Awful! Ew. It ruins the song.  
Sorry, going on.. to the wonderful reviews!

**someone:** Maybe. I think I did get them sick but oh well! Oh yes, interesting indeed. I am glad you go like it, I am sure you are one of the few!  
**Willow Rose:** Oh well, thank you very much. As for me, I enjoy ErikXMeg fiction a lot. Though, I dislike fluff. So this should be fine for you, as it I will not go very deep into it.  
Erik comes back now actually, and so does the unknown guy. But that is after awhile. I agree with you highly, I find myself having to retype Meg's react because I am much more partial to blood and gore. For I like them a lot. Although, Meg does feel the pain. Even for a second, that does not sound like much fun to me. Ah, I would go on on this subject more, but I would be giving things away. Pity.  
**jokarynn:** Ha, yes. All questions that will, and can, be answered. Sorry to leave you confused, but it will just make the ending even better. Yes, Edger Allan Poe is horror somewhat. Bizarre horror. Hard to explain. Anyhow, you definately should, if you like mine. Oh, and that was flattering.  
**YiyangYoung:** Nah, he isn't. You'll find out more about him later, promise. And yes, they definately would have been. Yep! The walls, they like to do that.

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream**

Meg closed her eyes, biting into her lip in a futile attempt to keep away the pain- suddenly, it stopped. Relief flooded her body and she felt almost, light. She took in a shuttering breath, opening her eyes warily, finding herself staring up at a white tiled ceiling. Afraid to move, Meg turned her head, examining the rusted, simple spring bed she was laying on.

It appeared that she was in a hospital room, but that clearly would make no sense. Moments ago she had been in a manor. Actually, as the memories flooded back to her, being in a hospital would make the _most_ sense. '_Had I just imagined it all?' _Meg thought grimacing, as she attempted to sit up, failing. Everything had felt so real, and as she thought that, she remembered the Phantom. 'They will appear real, but are not nonetheless'; he had said something to that effect. Wariness came over her and she felt the desperate need to sit up. Unfortunately, when she attempted to move her legs a strange tingling pulsed through them. Meg was sure she was fine, that the pervious episode must have been one of the terrors the Phantom had mentioned earlier, though her legs seemed to think otherwise.

The pain had felt all too real, so real in fact Meg was sure it had tricked her mind. She yelled out in frustration, her voice cracking a bit. Meg could feel herself becoming hysterical as she again tried to sit up, this time succeeding somewhat and she leaned against the metal backboard. Meg took a deep breath, looking toward the door with a distraught expression, thinking she would have to pull herself to the ground, across the room, to the door. It would be a tiresome act, but sitting pathetically in bed and waiting for whatever to come to her seemed even worse. Though, the longer she sat in the bed, the more she felt unable to move. A small groan passed from her lips as she stared blankly down at her legs. Her eyes grew in surprise as she realized her the hem of her dress was still covered in blood. Perhaps her knees really were completely destroyed, though her courage failed her and she was unable to pull up her dress to check. The way things looked as of now, she could never be able to dance again. Meg was now unable to do the one thing in the world that was the current source of her happiness. Tears stung at her eyes as she stared at the blood in misery.

A shadow seemed to be collecting at the foot of the bed, becoming thicker before her and was slowly spreading out, one so dark she could now no longer see her feet at all. As it inched its way up her legs, she could no longer feel what was being swallowed up. Meg's brow contorted as she stared, suddenly forgetting her ill fortune. The black was now to her knees and growing. Meg considered simply letting it continue without a fight, though if this all really was unreal, then if Meg could get out, she could dance again.

Hope suddenly struck in her heart and she glanced down at the white floor. If she was to get out at all, she could have to get to the floor somehow. This was even more difficult considering the fact that she could no longer feel her legs. Meg realized the floor was marble, and was now feeling that the most important thing was to protect her head, dreading what would happen if she rendered herself unconscious. She glanced over at the increasing darkness; anxiety replacing the hope as she realized it was almost to her waist. In panic, Meg swung herself out of bed, tumbling to the floor and rolling some before coming to a stop. A loud smack following as her head collided with the marble.

Meg covered her face with her hands, grumbling as she let out a long sigh. Meg expected a large amount of pain to follow, though, miraculously, the fall seemed to not have hurt her at all, on the contrary, she felt much better. Even if her head had hit the floor. Curiously, she moved her feet, cheering in her mind as she realized they seemed fine. Shakily, she sat up, looking around and gasping. She was no longer in the hospital room, but in a hallway.

Meg leaned forward subtly, glancing around; her face struck with fear. She stumbled up, drenched in blood, the excess leaking from her dress and pouring back down. Meg stood with her arms outward slightly, letting the blood run down her arms and drip off her fingertips. The blood ran down her hair was well, if she had been bathing in it. Her usually blonde hair was not red, sticky, and numberous strings clung to her face. A small whimper of distress passed from her lips as she slowly started forward, drudging along through the knee-high river of blood. Meg wanted to run, to get out of this disgusting hallway as soon as possible. Though, the blood had soaked into her dress, weig hing her down a great deal. She turned up her face with a look of disgust, the smell of coagulation making her feel as if she was going to vomit. Meg closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady her breathing.

All concentration was broken when Meg felt herself run into something. She slowly opened her eyes, a loud cry escaping from her throat as she stared at the back of a cadaver. Its head was tilted lightly to the side and was that of a male. This cheek had a long rip through it, as if someone had placed some sort of jagged object in his mouth and cut from the side of his lip up to his jawbone. In horror, Meg pressed against the wall; unable to tear her eyes away from the sight as she slowly moved passed it. As soon as she did, she broke out into a panicked run, ignoring the blood splashing her as she did so. She reached a fork in the hallway, hysterically looking back and forward between each hallway.

It wasn't until she heard footsteps from the hall to the left that Meg began to run in that said direction. She let out a small scream as she collided with a perplexed looking, well-attired man. Meg immediately clung slightly to the recognizable Phantom, staring up at him in fright.  
"Mademoiselle, _what_ are you doing?" He said, trying to sound uncaring but unwillingly concern tined his tone.  
"Can you not see? I am covered in blood. _Human blood_. Oh, God, there is a dead man back there." She cried, pointing down the hall and quieting when she was turned to face the Phantom, his hands firmly on her shoulders.

"Calm down." He hissed, "Stay here." Glancing over her and indeed seeing she was covered in blood, the Phantom glided past her and walked swiftly down the hall, stopping to see all adjoining ones were completely empty. He turned his head to look at Meg; she was standing with an expression of mixed confusion and fear. The sight was quite strange, her dripping in blood as if she had been swimming in it and no indication of where it had all come from. Even so, the Phantom knew exactly what Meg was experiencing. It was true, nothing harmful will actually stay real, and though, selected things can remain.

The Phantom began to make his way back to Meg, staring down at her with an disappointed expression. Meg felt disheartened, as if she had in some way failed him. Though, she slowly felt her own self-defense raising.  
"Well? How do you expect me to react when I have to walk through a hallway filled with blood? With a corpse nonetheless!" Meg found herself shouting, placing her hands on her hips.  
"Mademoiselle, I made no remark." He answered coolly, the visible corner of his lip lifting into an obvious smirk.  
"Yes, well, you were.. thinking about say something." Meg said unthinkingly, suddenly feeling foolish and narrowing her eyes at him. The Phantom let out a cold laugh, brushing pass her and beginning to walk off down the hallway, leaving Meg looking lost. She turned grabbing the skirt of her dress and stumbling down the hallway to follow him. "Wait! Where are you going? Monsieur, I-" Meg cut off, tripping over the hem of her skirt. She let out an irritated sigh, looking back up and jolting a bit in surprise, finding herself alone in the hallway. "Monsieur!" She called in panic, not wanting to be alone again.

The thought entered her mind, that maybe he was still there. Maybe she had entered another terror and the Phantom was simply unaware she was dreaming again. But there was no indication that she had drifted off, nor any black shadows that usually indicated when one was beginning. "Monsieur, _Erik_ _please_." Meg tried, using the Phantom's name. It would certainly surprise him, or maybe not so much? Meg knew much of Erik, considering her mother had aided for so many years. Unintentionally, during a conversation her mother had once said his name. Meg, being her cunning self, had managed to act like she had not noticed. It had been one of the extremely few moments her mother had not caught onto her.

Letting go of her dress in frustration, Meg stumbled from the sudden weight though she continued to walk. No one was answering her; she was all alone again. '_Alone..'_ Meg thought to herself, stopping and leaning against the wall. She slide down to the floor, leaving a trail of blood on the wall as she sat on the floor, feeling tears run downing her cheeks. All Meg wanted to do was go home, she had been through quite enough in this amount of time then all she cared for in a lifetime. "Maman." She whined, leaning her head back against the wall when she felt a presence standing over her.

Meg lifted her gaze up, staring listlessly up at Erik. Quickly, Meg sniffed and wiped her hands across her face, shifting into a better position. Before Meg could open her mouth to say something callous, Erik spoke.  
"Pathetic really, Mademoiselle." He said mockingly and with an eloquent movement he removed his cloak, handing it out to her. Meg hesitatingly took it, lifting a corner to her face questionably. Erik motioned for her to continue and she carefully began to wipe the blood off her face.  
"I am not helpless." Meg said quietly and Erik let out a scornful huff of laughter, kneeling beside her.  
"There is no way you can move with your dress sopping."  
"I can wring it out." Meg handed the cloak to Erik and reached forward, shuttering as grabbed up the first few layers of her frou-frous and closed her eyes. When she was not in a panic, the realization that of what she was touching made her slightly queasy. Meg twisted her hands and grimaced a bit as it ran past her fingers and onto the floor.  
"Let me." Erik said, sighing with impatience as he gathered up some fabric, wringing it out quickly. Meg opened her eyes and stared at him blankly for a moment, realizing he was purposely avoiding eye contact with her. She sighed, grabbing up another part of the skirt of her dress to wring it out. Despite Erik's willingness to help her himself, Meg did not want to appear powerless.

"Thank you.." Meg said quietly, keeping her eyes on her hands.

Eriknever answered her.

* * *

Yay for callious Erik! 

Being covered in blood is probably very uncomfortable huh?  
Do not worry about the dead guy, he is not very important..  
I will update! Uh.. Tuesday probably. If not that then Monday.  
Pwease review! I adore getting them! Make my day?


	7. Understand

I have to say, I am not quite happy with this. Here is again, La Ment readers, my pessimistic way is present. Sometimes, I just do not feel I did it well.  
Have I captured the characters well? You know, that sort of thing. Not very much action in this chapter, mostly dialogue. Uh.. I have some ideas for the next one, but they're all iffy. Do not worry.  
Ahh! What if I am getting writers block?  
o.o Dread.

**YiyangYoung: **Well thank you, I do try to depict things well. Once I broke my head open, so I know how it feels in the hair. Ow! Once, I fell on my butt when Ice Skating(because I am a not so good one). And no! Do not apologize! I love longreviews!**  
someone:** Oh, I know. While typing that I was like 'tisk, now she's got blood all over it.' But, I left it anyways. This chapter, when you read it, will probably answer those questions.  
Or I can; yes. But later.  
**Kaz:** Not VERY soon, but I do think I update alot sooner then most stories on this site. Glad you are enjoying it!  
**Ridel:** Thank you, thank you. -bows- I was going for demention. And yes, I suppose your right so far. But then.. the ending would be plagiarizim. o.o  
**Willow Rose:** Yay! Long review!  
Yes, it is! And I agree, I like the hallway to. Mostly the dead body, I named him Charles. I want to poke him with a stick. He was mad I said he was unimportant, but we're friends now. The blood isn't what smells, it is the decaying Charles. I see your point though, it does not. If it was me(and not Meg) I could be having fun. Though, she had to have a certain level of dainty-ness for realism. XD 'Hey Meg, darling? When Erik says not to open a door, I bet you're going to listen to him now.' That would be logical thinking. I love suggestions! And like yours, the red rose. Perhaps I will use it, in a certain other kind of way. You'll see. Yes, she does. Without Erik, she is lost. Not exactly, but you know. Thanks!  
**Almost-Lost-Hope6:** Didn't she though? I yelled at the TV and ran back into my room at the beginning. Startled my parents. I assure you, Erik is not going to become 'sweet'. Or something such as that.  
**jokarynn:** I do it to spite you! .. Not really. I lie.  
Erik can see the blood on her, but not in the hallway and what not. Not pretending. And no! My cold is not gone, it is awful. Rawr!  
Sorry if this is not a very good 'fix' as I myself am very critical on this chapter. And I wish I could have updated more, stupid parents going to Mexico for a trip. Thank you for the compliments.  
**gerfan:** XD Wow, yeah, it is kind of like Carrie, but with no stupid people making her go insane. Soon enough?

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream**

Meg had lost track of time as she sat, working at wringing the blood from her dress. She shifted uncomfortably, guessing she had been sitting on the floor for much to long, as her right leg was numb and had fallen asleep. Meg glanced over at Erik warily, not wanting to appear to be whining as he certainly was doing most of the work. Which seemed unfair because Erik was not wearing her dress. Though.. as she thought about this, a most humorous imagine entered her mind. Shaking her head slightly, Meg turned her attention back on her leg, trying to figure out the right way to move it without bringing Erik's attention to her. Finally, Meg gave up trying to be carefully and simply sat up a bit, moving her leg outward, wincing as she did so.

Erik had stopped, letting go of her dress rapidly and stared at her. Meg smiled at him sheepishly and motioned toward her leg.  
"It uh.. had fallen asleep."

"Right.. well, I have done all I can for your dress. Perhaps you should remove some layers." Erik murmured in response, turning his head away. Meg considered this idea but decided if anything, she would much rather remove her corset, as she found it subtly hard to breath. Though, she waved Erik off, determined to remain reserved.  
"No, I am fine." Meg replied as she reached for Erik's cloak, standing gingerly, the carpet around her feet squishing from the blood. Meg let out a small sigh, pushing her hair from her face, realizing that when the blood dried further, she could be terribly uncomfortable but she stopped herself from complaining.  
"If you say so, Mademoiselle." Erik said listlessly, standing and staring through her with a thoughtful expression. Meg tilted her head slightly with a questionable expression, opening her mouth to speak but was interrupted. "How do you know my name?" Erik said abruptly, glaring at Meg. Meg, whom was taken back, stepped away from him with a startled expression.  
"Monsieur, how you do you _my_ name?" Meg snapped, straightening up and composing herself. Erik keep his cold gaze on her for a moment then growled in irritation and looked away, turning and beginning to pace. "Are you going to answer me then? Or just parade about in an aggravated manner?" Meg commented coolly, waving her hand around to add emphasis to Erik's pacing- as if he needed any.

When moments passed and her witty comment was ignored, Meg began to grow irritable. Watching Erik pace back and forward with a strange sort of grace seemed to be gnawing at her nerves. She had to get him to stop.  
"Erik, must you continue pacing?" Meg cried, stepping toward him though she quickly moved away when he shot her a chilling glare. Moments later he stopped, his back to her, arms akimbo.  
"I am trying to think, mademoiselle." Erik growled, back still turned to her. An awkward silence lingered between them, and after some time Meg wondered if Erik was still thinking. Maybe he had fallen asleep? Perhaps he was daydreaming, or simply ignoring her.  
"You know what I do not understand Monsieur? Is that you said everything was fake, right? Why am I covered in blood? And those scratchea on your face, how did you get them?" ... Silence. "Erik? Erik, are you listening to me?"

Meg did not understand it, she could try her best not to loose her patience, and to be polite, but he still did not answer. "Monsieur!" Meg yelled, stumbling back when Erik turned abruptly to face her.  
"Mademoiselle, did I not instruct you to _be quiet_? You are going to get us found. Furthermore, I do not _understand_ why you do not seem to comprehend a single word I tell you." Erik exclaimed loudly, he seemed less mad, more so just making a point. Meg blinked blankly at him, frowning when she found his speech quite unreasonable.  
"Completely unfair, Erik. I have fallen into this terrible predicament with you. First of all, I am brought here, I find you. True, I have.. well, never mind that. My point is, you of all people are here, telling me of all this unreasonable nonsense. I was attacked; my knees were broken, with a pipe or something. Really, I am not in the mood to be lectured by _you_." As Meg rambled on, she found herself becoming angry.  
"Lectured? No Mademoiselle, I am merely pointing out your foolishness. If you ever want to leave this place, then simply listen to me! It is truly so hard?"  
"Well.. Yes, yes it is! You expect to just show up similar to some kind of hero and rescue me?" Meg snapped, turning away and scoffing. "Some bizarre tale this is. The Phantom of the Opera of all people." She murmured, glaring down at the floor.  
"Do not be so moronic." Erik hissed, finding her whole outburst quite immature, "If you do wish to do this on your own, be my guest." He growled, snatching his cloak from Meg's hands. She glared at him as he swung his cloak back on, running one hand absentmindedly over the place where Meg had wiped her face off.

The hallway seemed to have darkened that same moment and Erik appeared to have not noticed; though Meg bet he simply did not care. It was then Meg began to wonder how Erik seemed so calm- excluding his obviously irritation with her. If this place knew all your fears, what exactly did Erik see? She thought about this for a moment, the only thing coming to mind was simply, Christine. No doubt he had put her through hell and back, as well as the people he had murdered? Perhaps they haunted him.

"Erik, what do you see?" Meg asked gently, wanting to be serious for a moment. Despite her feelings of Erik getting, perhaps, what he deserves. The little knowledge she knew of Erik's past keep her from being completely unsympathetic.  
"Pardon?" He said quietly, turning in a motion which made Meg relieved. She had just stopped him from walking off.  
"During the terrors, what exactly do you see?"

Erik became dead silent, as Meg suspected he would. He turned the visible side of his face toward her.  
"Is it not significant." There was a long pause, then he continued. "If you would, refrain from interrogating me." Erik suddenly began to stride forward, cloak swooshing behind him. Meg ran after him, slowing down to a fast walk as she reached him and panting slightly. The previous experience had taken more out of her then she thought and Meg suddenly felt very drowsy. Surely, Erik would not allow her to rest at all so Meg forced herself to appear wakeful whilst glancing over at Erik. For a second, Meg thought of taunting Erik with a bit of logic but she managed to hold back.  
For if Erik was allowing her to accompany him, she could indisputably see what he was hiding from her. Perhaps then, she would understand this ill-famed phantom?

* * *

Good, bad? I dunno, I think it was bad. GAH. -Throws a fit.- .. yeah. o.o Let us ignore that.  
Thank you for wonderful reviews and even reading all this bizarre stuff. Update, er, by or on Thursday.  
Review please!


	8. Instruction

Wheeee... Go NO WRITERS BLOCK. -Sigh of relief- Also, I was not going to update today. Forgot I had an essay to type. Heh. But I am amazing, oh yes. For I did the essay and managed to update! Fridays crowd will flood this, but oh well! Because my current reviewers are awesome.  
Yes, I am flattering you guys.  
Anyhow, I have a headache and need to get off the computer, gah, so I should do this quick.

**gerfan:** Really? Good, that last chapter had me growling. And maybe you will! No, I am sure you will. VERY SOON. Like, next chapter actually.  
**jokarynn:** If not, you can always e-mail me, and I will tell you all. But, I really think they will be, but you must use your mind as well, for this is not suppose to be so easy to figure out. Do not kill me! x.x This chapter is not very graphic, but the next one will be. And- Your welcome. My pleasure. Thank you for reviewing.  
**Almost-Lost-Hope6:** Next chapter, I swear! Now I feel bad for not putting it in this chapter, but I need rest. -Sniff-  
**YiyangYoung:** Sounds fun. Glad your making some sense of things. Oh, and I do agree with you! Michael Crawford, wow. Love his laugh, simply wonderful.  
**someone:** No In the next chapter, hold out a bit longer! I swear! .. Heh, yeah. Anyways! I lost it for a moment. Yes, Erik no want Meg to see.  
**Orli's EEPs Chica:** Yes! Yes you did, but you made up for it. Aw, it seems everyone here likes the blood. Oh yes, go us and or love for the morbid. Horror seems to be what I am best suited for, I wish I could make a movie out of this somehow. It would be fun! Oh, with Meg and Erik, it would all us who enjoy MxE so happy. And yes Meg is!  
-Relief- Good, I cannot rightfully judge my own writing, for some reason it is hard for me. Good to hear it is not awful.  
**Willow Rose:** Charles is wonderful. He would love to take up the offer on the Russian tea and cookies! Though, he insists I do not come. Suppose he wants to talk about me behind my back. Tisk tisk.  
Wasn't it though? I love the book! Actually- most people disagree with me- but I enjoy the book better then the movie and musical.(I read, a lot.) Wished Meg had a bigger part in it.. but oh well. Besides that, I love Erik. He is described as a corpse in the bok! Makes me giddy, as I love corpses and find them interesting to no end. I am strange! Oh! And thank you, I try to be proud of my work, but I do not want to become egotistical.  
XD Meg needs to listen to you, smart. For fun, I should begin answering your letters to Meg, huh?  
The title sounds great! Though, what will it be about? -Is curious.-  
I actually did what you suggested! It helped, listened to Piano.

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream**

Meg had been following behind Erik for hours, she guessed, time just seemed to slip by. Meg was unsure if it was evening or noon, the only thing that had judgment on her sleep was her aching muscles. Erik's quick paced strides were not helping either, as with every step he took, Meg found herself having to step twice the amount to keep up with him. She came close to informing him of his quick pace numerous times, though she was completely determined to listen to him- for the sake of getting out of here. Meg feared that if she continued to contradict Erik, he would surely leave her. Not that she would ever admit this obvious weakness. There was no way Meg could think of escaping besides following Erik's instruction- after all, he _had_ said he could get her out of here.

To Meg, Erik appeared much more cautious then she imagined he would be. Surely, it might have been because of their location, but nonetheless he seemed simply, paranoid. Inside, Meg almost laughed at herself. Here she was, following a murderer- one that held the knowledge for her escape and she found herself in an unreasonable, calm sate. Nothing had happened in quite a while and again Meg found her mind wandering to thoughts of sleep. All the thoughts only led to disappointment, because there was no way Erik would agree to keeping watch while she slept.  
"Mademoiselle, stop." Erik whispered demandingly, snapping Meg out of her thoughts as he brought up his hand swiftly whilst looking down an adjoining hallway. Meg stopped for a moment, continuing forward quietly, guessing Erik had no idea that she was quite a few feet away.

Erik made a waving moment with his hand as if he expected Meg to be right next to him. He apparently realized her distance before turning his head to look at her, gesturing her to pick up her pace. Meg ran forward subtly, slowing almost immediately, unaware of her exhausted expression.  
"We are turning down here." Erik impassively, straightening up as Meg brushed past him to look into the hallway. Her brow contorted as she stared down the dark hallway. The candles that lay in the scones were out and the light in the main hallway only barely shed luminosity. Even so, the hallway eventually slide into complete darkness, appearing to be interminable. Meg looked over at Erik debatably, quite confused by his choice of direction.  
"Erik.. are you sure? I sense that we only will be walking into trouble.."  
"Of course. Mademoiselle, have I not been clear? You cannot avoid them, best to enter them willingly." Erik snickered as a nervous huff of laughter passed from Meg's lips, he then continued, turning so he was facing Meg. "No need to fret." Erik paused, putting his arm out to his side and turning his head as if he was looking at something in his hand, giving the impression of being entranced. "It must choose between you and I. I am certain it will feed off me." His voice trailed off and he pursed his lips for a moment before turning swiftly and walking eloquently down the hallway. Meg stared after him for a moment, stepping forward hesitantly. For a fleeing moment, Meg wanted to run from him, scared of what they were 'willingly' walking into. Though she rapidly gathered herself and took off after Erik.

"Erik, _slow down_. I have no idea why you seem so eager to walk into one of these." Meg said in a whisper, glancing around warily, the darkness already thickening. To Meg's surprise, Erik had slowed down.  
"Stay close to me." He said plainly, glancing over at Meg as she came to his side. Meg looked over at him, judging that the distance between them was quite fine. The darkness surrounding them was so dense now; Meg could not see herself, nor the walls. She looked over at Erik, the only thing really indicating his presence was his body heat and the swoosh of his cloak. Meg leaned her head forward; attempting to make out the white of this mask- it was to dark. Sighing, Meg looked forward pointlessly, wondering how far they would have to travel into this nothingness to enter a terror.

Unexpectedly, Meg felt Erik's grip on her shoulder and she flinched, shifting a bit in a motion to hit Erik. "Marguerite." Erik said melodiously, in a way that was able to stop Meg. Immediately, it dawned on her that Erik must be so used to going into terrors that he was able to gage the time before one. Meg relaxed; glancing over to darkness at her shoulder, guessing that Erik grabbed her only to be sure they did not separate. Though, Meg remembered how Erik had embraced her when she opened the door before and still she woke in a terror alone. Meg thought about this for some seconds, then looked up to where Erik was. "Erik, If we are in contact, does that ensure we will not be separated?"  
"It should. Previously, you had opened the door before I could hold onto you."  
"Alright." Meg answered simply, resisting the urge to move closer to Erik- merely to not be separated. Meg took a deep breath, finding the air hard to breathe as she felt herself being tossed forward.

When Meg opened her eyes, she saw nothing but darkness. Though, she felt fine, unlike the last time were she felt she had fallen unconscious. Meg remained standing, mind awake, though her body was still begging her to rest. At first, Meg thought she might still be in the hallway, though it was not until she tried to move did she realize the cause of the darkness was a gloved hand over her eyes.  
"You are well?"  
"Erik, why do you have your hand over my eyes?"

"You cannot see this." Erik answered strongly, clearly wanting to end the conversation then. Meg felt his other hand press against her back and he began to move her forward with him in a perfect gait.  
"You are being unreasonable! Erik, you cannot lead me through the rest of the manor with your hand over my eyes." Meg persisted, stumbling a bit as she tried to stop walking.  
"Yes, I very well can, and if I have to, I will." He hissed, pushing her forward subtly to get her walking again.  
"Why can I not hear anything but your voice?" Meg inquired, beginning to feel very uncomfortable. It was true, Meg noticed moments before that everything was deftly quiet besides Erik's voice. Though, now, _everything_ was quiet; Erik seemed to be ignoring her as he kept his dominant hold on her. Meg growled in annoyance, wishing she knew what was going on, wondering what Erik was seeing. Perhaps the reason Meg could not hear anything was because she had not yet been able to examine the surroundings? It made sense now that Meg thought about it. Erik had said something about 'it feeding off of him'- and as Meg remembered, the bizarre man that had attacked her said something almost identical. To Meg's knowledge, Erik did carry many sins as well as numerous, horrible memories. Between them two, it was certain that whatever terror they were in was for Erik, and to see Erik's terror, she must be able to see Erik.

* * *

Yay for dialogue! Yes, next chapter. You will see! Fun? Maybe. I think so, at least, all the ideas in my head sound like they would be interesting to read! Update, Saturday, if not Friday.  
Remember to review please! Need that wonderful motivation!


	9. Mirrors

No time! Must go fast! o.o Chapter okay. I do not know! Yes!

**Gerfan:** Thanks! And I will try to, as long as you keep reveiwing!  
**Almost-Lost-Hope6: **Yay! Thank you, mystery is good huh?  
**Willow Rose:** XD Yes, In a way I suppose he is. And I know, Charles told me. u.u He offers his apology and made you some muffins to make up for it. Says he will go to give you them soon. Is this soon enough? Besides that, I only have four dollars, sorry. This had to do.

Dear Willow Rose,  
Despite how rude that sounded, I will let it go. And I am trying to listen to him, it is just my curiousity leads me to do stupid things. Trust me, I realize. The situation isn't making it any better either, my dress is awfully uncomfortable and I am tired. Sorry, I suppose I am upsetting you?  
Sincerely,  
Meg Giry

Dear Willow Rose,  
I would like to thank you for bluntly telling Giry of her foolishness. As my own terrors are my own problems and you agree. As you should, seeing how it is only logical.  
Your apparent Master,  
O.G. - Or rather, if I may, Erik.

Back to me now; That sounds VERY interesting. Please say it is not OW! For I really want to read it! What is the pair, if any? Corpses shall be there, yeah?  
Thank you for the review, amusing much!  
**Orli's EEPs Chica: **You know, I was really worried if I was making her to cowardly! Apparently not, as you say. Is Erik's reaction good in this? If not, the next chapter will go into detail about- well, I do not want to give it away.  
-Moment of fear- No fluff! Bad! -Sigh of relief- Good, if you were serious I would have been distressed.  
Very good! I mean, I suggest ending it on a bit of both. You know, kind of happy, kind of not? People will be mad at you, ha. But if you do not want a perfect happy ending, for all means make one you DO like. I was going to make Into La Ment end happy, but then decided I did not want to!  
I did!  
**YiyangYoung:** Yeah, I am hungry for food too. o.o And yeah, he is. Makes it fun to read! And to answer your question, it was the second one.  
**jokarynn: **Whoppin'? XD That is great. Two days? Ha, that is not bad. We computer addicts need breaks. Try not to fall out of your chair.  
Meg does need a new dress, but I do not think there are any stores in the manor. I could make one though, because I am writing it!  
But it would be weird. o.o  
You think she seems helpless? Well, I do plan to make her more.. assertive in a chapter near the end. The big dramatic chapter.

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream**

The floor upon which Meg was walking on must have turned into marble, for she could now hear her own footsteps, for a moment she thought maybe she could be able to hear everything when that sound reached her ears- alas nothing. Meg guessed it was because she knew she was walking, so logically she would be able to hear it. As minutes flew by Meg found herself becoming much less keen on prying into Erik's terror. Not that she was not still exceedingly curious, rather she began to trust Erik's judgment. By his past, maybe this would be to frightening- actually, now that Meg thought that, she was slightly angered, feeling as if Erik believed her to weak to take it. She sighed, walking on with in Erik's pace despondently. Though, when Meg heard Erik curse she instantly straightened up into a more proper stance, hoping Erik would speak to her. The lack of conversation between them had lasted quite some time, and despite her warily feelings on Erik, she would feel better if he said something to her- anything really. Instead, he had been spending the time mumbling incoherently or cursing.

Meg frowned, wishing she knew why Erik was cursing. Sometimes Meg could catch a hint of sorrow in his tone and other times he sounded merely annoyed. Meg's attention returned back to her physical well being and again she found herself wanting Erik to remove his hand, only so she could wipe her face. His glove was making her sweat subtly and was getting quite irritating. As if Erik had heard her thoughts, he suddenly jerked to the side; his hand slipping a bit as Meg felt herself being pulled back into him. The only thing she caught sight of was the white tiled floor and the blur as her vision turned to the ceiling before Erik's hand fixed itself over her eyes perfectly. Quickly, Meg realized Erik had no real intention of letting her see. She was brought backward, the back of her neck against Erik's chest now and her right leg was in mid-air.  
"Impersonating harridan!" Erik hissed and Meg felt him thrash out at something. A small 'erk' noise emitted from her throat as once again Erik jolted. After a moment, he leaned forward with a sigh, allowing Meg to set her right leg back onto the floor.

Again, they began forward, Erik moving her along with more force then ever. Erik guided her around a corner, mumbling under his breath.  
"Erik?"  
"What?" Erik snapped in a tone that made Meg feel as if he had no intention of hearing her question anyhow.  
"Are you all right?" Meg inquired and Erik grew silent. The only thing she could hear now was the rapid tapping of their footsteps, which seemed to be almost in union. It remained like this for a few minutes and Meg found her patience waning, guessing Erik had taken to ignoring her again.  
"This is my quandary, do try to stay out of it." Erik replied, not carrying to properly answer her question.  
"I have been! I was merely asking how you are!" Meg shouted, throwing her arms up in irritation.  
"Frankly, It was a ridiculous question." Erik said hurriedly, shoving Meg again. Meg grimaced, nearly loosing her balance, knowing she could have fallen had Erik not wanted to keep her from seeing anything.  
"Thanks, Erik." Meg growled, receiving a cold chuckle in response.

As time went by, Erik appeared to be become more and more nervous. Numerous times he would mumble things such as 'This is not real' and ask 'Marguerite, you cannot hear this, can you?' and Meg would simply reassure Erik that she remained deaf to all things that where not him. She felt anger rising within her again, not for anything Erik had directly done, though with him leading her around she felt completely dependent- which was not a feeling Meg was very fond of. More then ever she wanted to get out of this hell, so she could see again, so Erik would perhaps put more attention in the process of getting them out of here. Because as of now, Meg felt he was not trying at all, merely sashaying about. Logically, Meg where she placed the blame was wide of the mark.

Thinking back, Meg remembered that the terrors would change and end when Meg did something drastic.

"Erik, are there any doors we could go through?"  
"No doors." Erik remarked quickly and he stopped abruptly. Meg jerked forward, not anticipating Erik's standstill. Meg listened to the silence for a moment, waiting for Erik to explain. When no explanation came, she opened her mouth to say something though stopped when Erik snarled loudly and released her. A cool breeze wept over her face as she stared at herself. Curiously Meg blinked, making a small gesture with her hand, her reflection immediately following in harmony. She reached forward, tapping the glass whilst noting Erik's reflection in the mirror. Meg gradually stepped away from the mirror and turned slowly away, looking around the room large circular room. The floor was a blinding white, mirroring the white tile Meg stood on. All walls around them were mirrors in full length that reached from the ceiling to the floor.  
"Damn it!" Erik shouted suddenly, his booming voice making Meg flinch in surprise. He repeated his several times, turning angrily to face Meg. He drew back a bit, as if he had completely forgot Meg was there at all.

The light dimmed and Meg again looked around, feeling the change in atmosphere. Candles now lit the room, laid on the around carelessly, the melting wax collecting on the floor. Numerous mirrors were broken, the shattered glass strew about on the floor but there was one in particular that caught Meg's attention. One to the left that had a spider web like crack in an area near the top, blood seemed to have seeped into the cracks as if someone had pounded on it. Meg's gaze returned to Erik and as examined the scratches on his face- they were bleeding.  
"Uh.. Erik, your.. bleeding." Meg said, pointing at Erik limply. Suddenly, Meg let out a loud yelp as a woman appeared in front of her. She seemed relatively young-though older then Meg; her hair showed long white streaks of stress, and her eyes were cold and full of hatred, though for some reason the woman did not scare Meg. Really the only reason she screamed was because she startled her.  
"Harlot!" The woman yelled suddenly, striking Meg across the face violently. Meg stumbled back with a look of shock, staring with mouth agape at the woman. Erik quickly strode forward, reaching out to grab the woman but before he could she turned swiftly on her heel and brought her hand across the visible side of his face. Her nails had apparently dug into Erik's skin as he now has deep nail marks across his face.

It was then Erik did something Meg found completely odd, he held his hand to his face and cradled it, turning away as a subtle, involuntary whimper passed his lips. Strange enough, the dismal gesture fitted Erik somehow.  
"You brought her here, _again_? How many times must we tell you?" The woman screeched, turning all her attention onto Erik. "Idiotic, Erik! You are nothing but a fool. See what you have grown into!" The woman grabbed Erik's head and wrenched it up, forcing him to stare at his own reflection. He was visibly trembling as the woman turned her head away, closing her eyes as if she herself was afraid to look as him. "Gruesome, hated, disturbed; you are all that and a murderer. Erik- you bring _nothing_ to the world but revulsion. You belong here." The woman trailed her hand along the trim of his mask and suddenly Erik stood, pushing her away violently. A vicious snarl escaped his throat as he threw his arms at her as she blurred. It appeared Erik was smudging her to the point were, finally, she disappeared. He stood, breathing deep with a look of fury Meg had never seen on his face before.

Erik turned his gaze unto Meg, his rage slowly fading from his face to an emotionless expression. He straightened up, taking a shaky breath and as quickly as it came, all pitiable depiction faded from his profile. Erik now seemed the dominant man from before.

* * *

Oh yes! Sorry, no end not. Have to clean bathrooms then go placed with a friend. Typos will be here, sorry.  
Oh, and for fun, because I like my stories to be interactive between reviewer and author(I mean, if wouldn't be as fun without you guys) you can all, if you want, write little notes to the characters and I will have them answer. For it is fun for me and I can bring out my less serious side. Willow Rose; she is inspriation.  
Review you guys! I plan on updating tomorrow!


	10. Listless

Half of this I wrote while on a sugar high of some sorts. Funny thing, I had no sugar. o.o Tried to keep them in character. I once had Meg throw a shoe at a mirror and had it bounce off to attack Erik.  
XD I lost it. Do not worry, I got rid of that when my brain came back to me. But it was fun to write. You know, I bet half of you guys do not even read this. I am eating vegitable lezonia, lensonia? That isn't even close. Well, it is the nastiest thing in the world. Really, do not eat it. See, I am talking about nonsense and half of you will never know! Ever!  
..So the hyperness has not worn away completely.  
Anyways! You all have one man to thank for this update.. and that is a man whom plays classical music who I am to lazy to find his name. And well, yourselves as well. Because part of the reason why I love updating is to anwer reviews!  
Amazing how I suddenly get the urge to update randomly.  
No I do NOT think this chapter is very good. But that is probably only because of writers block.. how I got this out. I do not know. Took me a good two and a half hours. Sad, huh?

**someone:** Thanks! Though, I do wish I could have thrown this out before that. But oh well! And as for his address, I actually make him answer them from my computer. -Nods.-  
-Wishful sigh-  
Dear Someone,  
I suppose it is not much better. Though, I could like to say I do not sign my letters PTO. That is all the musical Eriks. Well, I might have. There are so many of me I get myself confused.. with me. Let me stray from that; for is irritates me greatly. As for my day- no complaints.  
Sincerely,  
Erik  
**gerfan: **Very very painfully slow... yes! For we must have Erik never completely open up!  
**sbkar:** -Laughs- Wow! My spelling is awful! Well, no. They just slip by me. Even when I do overlook them to make sure. Have I stolen anything completely from 'The Shinning'? As I have not read nor seen the movie. How terrible that would be to steal stuff from Stephen King. o.o  
About your curiousity; I realized that when I was writing it. Therefore, I made that whole thing with Erik and Meg wringing out her frou-frous(or petticoats). I should have done a time lapse, as it took a very long time. It would have been easier to simply have her shead a few, but, I like the fluffiness! .. Yes. Ridicious reason but oh well.  
Your the first person to find it understandable.  
Referee. XD Erik is a referee! -Imagines that.- Wow. o.o Anyways, I did fix those things. Might take a while for to upload the fixed one. And thank you for all that, I take that stuff well and I like it when people tell me.  
Oh yes- and trust me. Erik will see just how strong she is, in due time.  
**Willow Rose:** Thank you, thank you. -Bows.- Even though it was very short?  
You have magical powers of.. knowing.. stuff. Yes! I must be one of the very few who dislike chocolate, which makes you guess even more surpising.  
-Laughs.- I understand completely. It is hard to balance so much and manage to update. I am very happy you named her simply Stephanie! You know- those OW fanfiction were the girl is named odd names just, bothers me. Oh yes- and friends we are. Otherwise, I would not be willing to drop my strick 'Meg/Erik' reading requirements. And- you are very amusing!  
Charles wanted very much to participate in your fanfiction! Willingly, I will lend him to you. Otherwise he would be mad with me. He wants to know if you and him could have tea, he bought this new tea cup at Ikea. Wants to use it- he says he also made ginger cookies. Sadly the decaying smell is starting to come from Charles. This does not bother me but I am thinking of bringing him to a morgue so he could be fixed up a bit. Good idea?  
Blood and gore! Fancinating! It sounds wonderful! Oh why must you stop? I wanted to know. -Smiles sheepishly- Wait, I changed my mind. Do not tell me. I love to be left in wonder.

Dear Willow Rose,  
I seems to be that for a lot of people.. oh well, I can handle it. And you as well? I suppose he does have a lot of fans.  
Sincerely,  
Meg Giry

Dear Willow Rose,  
How awful it would be to inform you about everything. You are certainly right, the mystery and excitement would no longer be there. And I refuse to comment on your choice of.. colorful words. As for doing anything for me- thank you for explaining that all. I found it extremely entertaining. Raoul shaped cookies? They make those? Sounds very interesting..  
Perhaps I could drown one in some wine..  
Not for eating purposes.  
I am not sure if this horrid place in even in Paris.

Rue: -Starts laughing madly.- We're not in Paris anymore Meg! XD XD Wizard of Oz, oh god, it hurts.

...I fail to catch the humor in that. Anyways, ignoring the author's laughter, I will continue. Beliked is certainly not a word, though it decribes your views of me much better. Or.. does it?  
Your wholly amused master,  
Erik

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream**

Meg stared at Erik with a worried expression as his own went blank. Erik placed his arms akimbo, staring through Meg with a cold, but thoughtful, expression. Meg raised a brow, staring at the pensive man in front of her. He had seemly recovered from what had just happened to him unbelievably fast. Half of Meg wanted to draw back- the other half wanted to poke him with something. Instead, Meg shifted onto her other foot, hoping to get Erik's attention. It did not work. Was he thinking of a way out?  
"Monsieur.. You are spacing." Meg said in a slight singsong tone, moving toward Erik but stopping as he seemed to snap back to reality. He stared at Meg with an unreadable expression then let out a wistful sigh.  
"I cannot think of a way out of here." Erik said, gesturing around the mirrored room. Meg stared at Erik curiously, then opened her mouth to say something, and decided against it.  
"There has to be some way." Meg said instead, beginning to walk around the circular room. "Let us try.. breaking the mirrors.."

"Break the mirrors?" Erik repeated in question, following Meg with his eyes.  
"Yes!" Meg said in a cheery tone, receiving a scowl from Erik. She ignored him, then stared intently at her own reflection. "Perhaps a passageway is behind one.."

"That happens to be one of the most ridiculous notions I have heard.." Erik trailed off, staring at Meg as she back up from the mirror and readied herself to run at it. Erik jerked forward to stop her, hesitated, then decided against it as Meg ran.

The mirror shattered as Meg rammed her shoulder into it. Wincing, Meg moved away with a ducking motion as the pieces scattered into the air, sounding somewhat like rain as they fell on and around her. Meg stood stunned for a moment then rubbed her left shoulder with her right hand, stepping back to look at the mirror. Behind it was a simple white wall. A disappointed expression played across her face as she continued to rub her shoulder, angry that it had all been for nothing.

"Mademoiselle, passageways behind a mirror? You must be living in a fantasy." Erik replied, sighing as he shook his head. Instantly realizing his mistake, Erik grew deadly quiet.  
"Phantom of the Opera? Manor of nightmares? It all _sounded_ very fitting you know." Meg said, glaring. It was quiet for a moment more as Meg gingerly began to shake some of the glass of herself. The silence was finally broken by Erik's footsteps. Meg glanced back at him, seeing he had his back turned to her now and had stood himself in front of a mirror.  
"Understood, Mademoiselle. Then by all means, let us smash the mirrors!" Erik called musically, shouldering a mirror as well, barely reacting as the pieces rained down on him. He straightened up, looking back at Meg, and she swore, for a moment she saw Erik smile.

The two of them had broken more then half of the mirrors as some time wore on. Erik had broken more, considering Meg took some time to relax her should before she felt it safe to brake another one. Not only that, but Meg was becoming more convinced that her idea wasn't the best. Well, at least she had thought of something, and Erik seemed to be enjoying smashing the mirrors. Why? Meg had not the fondest idea.  
"Erik.." Meg turned to him, both of her shoulders aching. Erik stopped before he could break another mirror to glance back at Meg. Seeing her grave expression, he turned to face her. "Erik, I do not think my idea was a very good one now." Meg paused in a thought, "Don't your shoulders hurt?"  
"Not significantly. Why, can you not continue?" Erik inquired, saying the last part with a bit of tease in his tone as he turned back around.  
"No, I was just thinking is was not going to work." Meg huffed, turning from Erik and shouldering another mirror in retort, jumping back from the shards of glass as her shoulder protested. Meg grumbled, wincing as she held her shoulder yet again, all attention leaving the pain as she stared into a shadowed concrete, dimly candle lit corridor. Her eyes grew wide for a second and she did a small victory dance. After turning quickly and running to grab Erik's wrist, Meg began to pull the puzzled Phantom to the mirror. "Ha, there." Meg smiled triumphantly, giving Erik a smug look. He stared blankly for a moment then pulled his hand away from Meg, closing his eyes and clapping twice listlessly.  
"Very good Marguerite. Seems you have done something right." Erik comment plainly, stepping through the mirror and waiting to help Meg through. Meg carefully maneuvered herself through the mirror frame, stepping into the hallway with ease on her own. Erik withdrew his hand quickly and began to walk down the corridor swiftly.

Meg stared at Erik's retreating figure, wondering if refusing his help had insulted him somehow. She shrugged, letting out an irritated sigh and jogged to catch up with Erik, slowing down quickly because of the discomfort the dress was causing.

Perhaps they would be getting out soon?

Erik stopped when he reached the plain wooden door at the end of corridor, glancing back to see Meg was some distance away. He opened the door warily, praying that it would not lead into any more predicaments. Fortunately, that was so, the door opened up into one of the main hallways from before. Erik breathed a sigh of relief, stepping onto the dusty red carpet and moving out of the doorway. Meg was not far behind as Erik suddenly got the urge to shut Meg in. With his hand still on the doorknob, Erik felt himself absentmindedly move forward to shut the door. Meg let out a small yelp and quickly slid through the open area, glaring at Erik as she collected herself. Erik let out a huff and slammed the door, making Meg jump.  
"Erik; you were going to shut the door on me.." Meg said, trailing off while continuing to glare at Erik. He turned and began walking down the hallway, giving a small shrug in response to Meg. She rolled her eyes and began to walk after him, exhaustion slowly taking over her body. Erik must be tired to, even though he would most certainly deny it if she asked. Rest would do them both some good.  
"Erik- stop. I need to rest." Meg panted, stopping and sitting sloppily on the ground. Surprising, Erik halted, turning back around, he walked eloquently to sit a few feet away from Meg.  
"All right then, I presume I should not of guessed you could handle all this." Erik said mockingly, keeping his eyes from her.

"Erik, quit it, if you would please." Meg said softly, picking at some of the dry blood on her skirt absentmindedly. Sighing, she leaned to the side and slowly came to a lying position. Meg stared blankly at the wall opposite of her, noting the awkward silence between them. "Erik, perhaps you should get come rest as well?" Meg asked, keeping her eyes on the wall. Meg sighed subtly, finding the floor very uncomfortable; she looked over at Erik, wishing she had a pillow of some sort, she then shifted onto her back to stare at the murky ceiling, bringing her hands behind her head in a very unlady-like manner. Meg waited a bit for Erik to answer, and loosing patience, she closed her eyes.  
"Perhaps.." Erik said quietly, watching Meg as she began drift off to sleep.

* * *

A little thing, not very exciting, but dialogue is nice sometimes. We have to have little breaks between the drama.  
Review please! As this had been my decent update in some time!


	11. Marionettes

I typed this all in Barnes and Noble, for I do my homework there. This chapter may confused you, and if you do not understand a certain killing thing, ask me. I will anwer, otherwise it will never be explained. You could catch on to it by a simple word. -Points to chapter title- please do try to guess. Nothing to say beside I have to go to the bathroom really bad. o.o

**Willow Rose:** o.O -Blinks blankly.- I am not good at cowering anyhow. She sounds like a rebel! You do that because absentmindedly, you want to tell me. o.o  
Oh, and Charles is pleased you will have him for tea. Went to the morgue too, had to explain why I was bringing a corpse dressed in clothes from the French Revolution, but it worked out fine. Did I tell you about that? Charles had taken to wearing those clothes.. tried to talk him out of it seeing as how it is not in the same timeline as my fic, but I could not. Plus, he looks snazzy in them. Anyways, he smells much better now, a bit like formaldehyde, but better. And yay for ginger cookies! Mine, good.  
But Charles insists he brings something besides his cup..

Dear Willow Rose,  
There you go again. And it wasn't necessarily me who was perky..  
Rue: -Shifty eyes.- I can take the fault for that.  
See, there.  
Sincerely,  
Meg Giry

Dear Willow Rose,  
I was referring to this 'hunky dory' nonsense. It is called sarcasm, my dear. As for testing the Raoul cookies on the corpse, a very wise decision. Do try not to hurt yourself when deciding upon words, I really do not mind anyhow.  
Your master,  
Erik  
ps. Ah, another one of those things I would have a wonderful retort to. Unfortunately, the author restricts me.  
**Orli's EEPs Chica:** I think this chapter is dramatic, I am not sure...  
will let you decide, okay? And no romance! Ah!  
**sbkar:** So! It should have been 'losing'. Darn, stupid me. Oh yes, and here is the 'icky man'. He comes. He gets- well, you will see.  
**someone: **Salad dressing! I do not know. Just as much as I do not know how to spell 'lazonia'. And well- no. Erik could not tell. Although he has his mirror passage, this one was not the same. As they were simple mirrors with no pretty frame.  
Dear someone,  
No exact way to anwer, so I am lost as to why I am replying.  
Sincerely,  
Erik  
**MooMoo-Sama:** Yay! I am thrilled that it managed to do that. May the rest be somewhere near as good for you.  
**kate norris:** Oh- I was worried to. My brain seemed to die. But it is back now, and I actually like this chapter. And thanks, I get my vocabulary by reading a lot.

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream**

**  
**Meg woke with an aching feeling contorting within her stomach. She groaned, turning over, her eyes fluttering open. Her stomach grumbled in request for food but Meg had no choice but to ignore it. She sat up gingerly; not feeling refreshed but better nonetheless. For a moment she wondered where she was- but feeling the crusty dress against her skin, her hunger increasing, and seeing a Phantom sitting across from her; brought realization. She stared at Erik with a dishearten look, he was sleeping. "I guess a ghost has got to sleep to." Meg mumbled sleepily, deciding the opportunity for going back to sleep was open.

Meg was right about ready to lull back to sleep when her gaze locked on to Erik. An unfamiliar feeling of hatred suddenly came over her, and everything seemed to become the sleeping man's fault. Logically, it must be. Erik was giving off the indication that he knew Meg would be sucked into this hell with him. Not only that, but he had been cold and cruel to her since the very beginning, not that Meg had been very sympathetic toward him, but with good reason. Erik was a murderer and a liar. A man that had manipulated her best friend's mind, and was now holding Meg captive in this bizarre nightmare. He was not trying to get them out; he was almost certainly holding her back! She glared, watching Erik's sleeping form.

Meg slowly crept toward him on her hands and knees. If Meg could rid him of her presence, she would have a better change getting out. Perfect still, he was sleeping. A smirk tugged at her lips and she stopped next to Erik, watching his chest rise and fall. A desperate need to see it stop swept over her; she could kill the Phantom.

Killing him wouldn't be too hard, if only she had something better to do it with then her hands. Meg held her breath unintentionally, trailing her hands along Erik's jaw line with a listless expression. She took a deep breath, realizing that until now she had been holding it. With a swift movement, Meg wrapped her hands around Erik's neck, brow contorting as she put all her strength into the task. Erik's eyes snapped open and he gasped for air, looking startled and afraid until he realized what was happened. He snarled loudly, a sound that was terrifying to Meg's ears, and stood quickly, the movement making Meg nearly loose her grip but instead it simply jerked her upright.

Erik caught Meg's throat as well, making her gag as he pushed her backward into the wall viciously. She gasped in pain from the collision, glaring at Erik as she managed to keep her grip on his neck. Erik maneuvered his other hand to Meg's throat, squeezing with unrestrained strength. Meg retched and began to kick at Erik, her grip loosing completely as her eyes widened in fear. Suddenly, Erik's furious expression faded and he quickly let go of Meg, hands shaking as he moved away, letting Meg crumble to the ground in a fit of coughing.

An awkward silence lingered between them. Meg no longer felt anger at Erik at all, actually, she was quite confused. Everything she thought before was completely irrational now and she had no idea what fueled her anger in the first place. Meg's throat was burning from Erik's responding attack but Meg would not complain, it only made sense that Erik had attacked her in response, but she wondered if he felt the same way. In shame, Meg would not bring herself to tear her gaze from the carpet.

"Marguerite!" Meg heard Erik breathe suddenly, then felt him kneel beside her hurriedly and embrace her awkwardly as a sudden darkness fogged over her vision.

When Meg's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could no longer feel Erik's presence near her. An uneasy emotion lingered in the pit of Meg's stomach when she felt her feet were weighed down. A fearful expression crossed her face as she realized exactly where she was even before she heard a click and clink of a chain being pulled. She attempted to draw back into the chair as her eyes adjusted to the light, surprise overtaking her face as she noticed Erik sitting across at the opposite side of the table. He was leaning forward in a strange position, blood was dripping down his white mask and it was clear he had been hit with something over the right side of his head. Meg's eyes grew large as the fear of Erik being dead passed over her but just then Erik grunted and shifted to lean his head back against the chair's head rest.  
"Erik!" Meg cried, jolting forward in a movement to run to him but alas, found herself again chained down. This time, her hands were as well.  
"Erik.. Erik.." Meg heard a voice mumbled in mockery beside her and she snapped her head in its direction. The strange man from before sat in a chair on the left side of the table between Meg and Erik. "It seems the little Phantom had quite a mouth on him, demanding and quite sarcastic. Callous as well, the poor fellow got quite annoying after awhile." The man made a swinging motion with his hands, "Had to get him quiet somehow." He smirked, leaning toward Meg.

"Bastard." Meg snapped, letting her anger get the best of her.  
"Name calling already? Tisk tisk.." He said with a breath of criticism. "Besides, he is still alive. The man knows what you are saying. Wouldn't want him to think less of you, would you?" The man finished, gesturing toward Erik. Meg glared in response, not caring to answer. She doubted Erik cared, as he was probably in a large amount of pain.

Both Meg's and the man's attention were brought to Erik as he straightened up in his chair, wincing as he gathered himself, praising his high endurance. "Stay- away from her." Erik demanded, glaring at the man coldly.  
"See! Again! He says this and yet he can do nothing!" The man announced rather loudly, placing both hands on the corresponding sides of his chair and suddenly appears beside Meg. Meg jumped with surprise, then gave the man a cold glare of her own. "Can he, dear?" The man asked with a snicker, leaning toward her. Erik growled a warning, though this only seemed to encourage the man's behavior. He began to trail his fingertips down Meg's jaw line, and despite how inhuman he appeared, his touch was not cold. Meg jerked away, beginning stopped when the man cupped her chin in his hand roughly. "I suppose I shouldn't touch her either?" Right as he said this, Meg jerked her head back slightly and quickly bit down on the man's hand, teeth sinking down into his flesh until Meg would taste his blood. Still, she kept her grip on his hand, expecting him to pull away. He did not. "Ah! Mademoiselle! Is that necessary?"

Meg heard a low chuckle from Erik's direction but she kept her attention on biting the man. "No problem." The man commented coolly, reaching forward with his left hand in a fist, holding Meg's nose closed between his thumb and his pointer finger. Meg responded by biting down on his hand harder, stopping when she felt her tooth scratch against a bone. After a few moments, Meg drew her head back, opening her mouth to breathe, trying not to swallow his blood as she shook her head to make the man remove his hand. He did so, leaning away from Meg with a smirk on his face. He stared at her as she steadied her breathing, bringing his hand to his mouth as blood ran down his arm and into his lap. He laughed softly, bring his right hand to his mouth and licking the wound. "See now dear, it is almost as if we have kissed." He said mockingly, leaning toward her again. Meg's gave him a look of disgust and spat at him, the mixture of blood and saliva pattering his face.  
"Filth." Meg growled, trying her best to move away from him.  
"Right-o." The man mumbled, wiping his face off with his hand and suddenly appearing back in the middle of the two of them. "Now, Mister, 'Opera ghost', you are deadly quiet. What says you?"

Erik appeared be to examining the man for the moment, and grimacing from his throbbing head, he responded. "I dislike.. your hat." It was quiet for a moment, and Meg decided she agreed. It was a pretty unappealing hat.  
"Marvelous!" The man shouted suddenly, smiling as if Erik had said something truly intriguing. "This does show promise." He placed his hands on the table, looking from Meg to Erik. "It had been wonderful seeing you both. Some more then others." He shot a dirty look at Erik, then continued, "But I fear our fun is almost at an end. Although this is simply the interlude, I guarantee that the second act is much shorter." He paused, "But I assure you, it is also the most exciting." Meg's gaze returned to Erik who was still watching the man intently, though it appeared he had felt Meg's gaze and his eyes moved to her as well.

"And now, my marionettes.." The man trailed off, looking from Meg to Erik and noting them staring at each other. He smirked, standing up subtly to reach for the chain handing from the lamp above the table. "Let act two ensue." He pulled the string, smothering them all in darkness.

* * *

Kind of long compared to others. Hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Some shaky sentences and probably errors but I am to lazy to go through it twice.  
Review all ye good people! 


	12. Morgue

Before everyone throttles me.. -Retreives a tazor just in case.- I had tesking, okay? It was its fault.. blame the High School Exit exams. I needed a well deserved break. Yeah.  
So! I went a bit overboard because I have this whole thing in my head- and desperately wanted to add it in. So! In this you have my friends Charles and Willow Rose, and myself. And yes- when I talk, I sound like a little girl somewhat. Scary, I know.  
So I did not read this over enough times- and probably have spelling errors, but I got lazy. So sue me.

**jokarynn:** Thanks! This chapter probably doesn't!  
**Willow Rose 3:** I voluntarily put you in my story! Uh, hopefully you do not mind. Charles made the brownies, I watched him. He did it well. I was going to guy the mix and stuff you know, ready in the box, but he insisted upon making them by scratch. -Shrugs-  
And I do like your story!  
p.s. Yes, I think so as well. He looked nice in it.

Willow Rose,  
It is hopeless pleasing you.  
Sincerely,  
Meg Giry

Dear Willow Rose,  
That would be nice, as I am currently unconscious.. yet, do not fret. I can get myself out of trouble. Thank you for your concern.  
Your thankful master,  
Erik**  
**  
Dear Willow Rose,  
Let us see you try, love.  
Sincerely,  
'Deranged man'  
**Kate Norris:** I think I was born with it. -Pokes self.- I think you'd be the only one to like the creepy guy! Which is amusing. Sorry this took so long!  
**Orli:** That's okay. XD I think last time I did not log in whilst reviewing your story. I got lazy. Romance is teh evil. And thank you- I aim for the 'twisted'. Hopefully, this is good. o.o I wanted to add you in too, but I saw no opening. Sorry friend.  
**The Musician of The Night aka someone:** I like to tell you that you gave me a wonderful idea with that! Thank you much! and- you flatter me.

* * *

**...Fears Within a Dream**

A blinding light shone into Meg's eyes, beckoning her to awake. She groaned, tilting her head as her vision blurred in and out of clarity. The single hanging bulb above her flickered and Meg was immediately aware she was lying down. Blinking as her eyes adjusted, Meg turned her head to the side and glanced down at her wrists, finding that they were strapped in leather straps, attacked to large metal clips that connected to the metal table she was laid upon. Meg shivered, moving her legs and finding the same thing appeared to have been done to them. She sighed in annoyance, irritated that she was restrained for the third time in this horrid place, not only that, but she was barefoot and wearing nothing, covered only by a white sheet that reach to her collar bones. Feeling a bit soupy, Meg began to examine the room. A long marble bar with two sinks spread the length of the room, and numerous metal cabinets hung above that. The glass doors of the cabinets allowing Meg to see the variety of bottles they held.

The sound of metal clinging against metal brought Meg's attention behind her. Clearly confused, she stared in perplexity up at what seemed to be a shower head support by a metal pole hanging over her. She gasped when a figure leaning over her blocked the light from the bulb above. Whoever it was, they were talking. The voice was definitely female and sounded subtly like a child, and another female voice responded.  
"Is she awake?"  
"Perhaps, either that or the medicine I gave her is making her have convulsions.. I hope so, that would be hilarious."  
"Indeed."

The woman hovering above Meg placed her pointer finger on Meg's forehead and Meg flinched upon feeling a chill run down her spine.  
"I'd say she's awake."  
"Damn."  
"I know..." The woman above Meg mumbled with an exacerbated sigh.  
"Can she talk?"  
"Nope, morphine and all that. We are probably just blurs, though I did not give her much.." Meg watched as the unclear woman waved her hands in front of her face. Meg's brow contorted as she tried to focus on the woman. Vision clearing for a moment to make it clear she was wearing a uniform of some sort and that her hands were gloved. Before Meg's vision was lost, she caught sigh of both the nametags. The one with the child-like voice's nametag read 'Rue' and other's 'Willow.' Meg mumbled, trying to speak but finding her words slurring.

"It speaks!" Rue announced as if something amazing had just happened, throwing up her arms and nearly loosing her grip of the scalpel in her right hand.  
"It tries.." Willow responded in fact, smiling wickedly as she reached for a small hammer on the cart placed next to the metal table.  
"Rue, you are going to hurt someone with that, love." A surprisingly feminine, though clearly, male voice added from Meg's left. Swiftly, Meg turned her head, vision cutting off again for a second before stabilizing. Before her, sitting on a empty table with his legs crossed, was a extremely pale man, dressed in clothes that reminded Meg of the attire worn during the French Revolution. His brunette hair was slightly wavy, and was pulled back lowly with a red ribbon. Carefully selected strains of hair remained to hang in his face, and upon his head was placed a black hat. Meg would have thought him handsome, if was not currently drugged and frozen in fear upon seeing a long stitched up slice through his cheek.  
"Hush, Charles. Wait, why do I have this anyways?" Rue questioned in confusion, the noise of metal signaling her setting the scalpel back to on the cart, and her picking up something else.  
"Is she not suppose to be with Erik?" Willow asked, a bit of malice in her tone. At the mention of Erik, Meg's attention turned from the man back to the two women, how did they know Erik? "We know everyone." Willow added as she immediately seemed to read Meg's thoughts, "Everyone in this house at least."  
"If we knew everyone, that would be amazing."  
"Undeniably, my friend."  
"I know everyone." The male, dubbed Charles, piped up. Holding out his hand as he interrupted them.  
"That is because you are highly social, but no, you still do not know everyone." Willow said, her death glare fading as her attention fell on Charles.  
"..Point taken, but they all wish they did." Charles replied smugly.  
"It is because he can cook." Rue added and Meg felt something placed on her forehead. She jolted in response, feeling a sharp sting throb through her head.  
"So, why is she not with Erik?"  
"The crazy guy must have screwed up, sent her to morgue instead. No worries, we will deliver her."  
"May we take out her liver?" Willow asked hopefully, purposely comprehending the sentence differently, glaring at Meg.  
"Well- no. Let us just stay with the original plan." Rue said, motioning to the hammer in Willow's hand.

"It will hurt her?" Willow said with a snicker.  
"Most definitely. This will be the one last nightmare before all hell breaks loose."  
"Could you both hurry up? I am due for dinner." Charles said with a sigh.  
"Who are you going to dinner with?" Rue inquired, loosing her attention in Meg.  
"Must I tell you everything?" Charles said flatly and apparently received a glare for he soon continued, "No one you'd know. Some aristocrats."  
"Dead or alive?"  
"..Dead."  
"Wonderful! The dead make the best company." Willow said suddenly, though her attention quickly went back to the task at hand.  
"Escort us Charles!" Rue demanded cheerfully.  
"If you wish, of course I will." Charles said with a smile, gesturing toward Meg. "Hurry now."  
"Oh yes! Okay. Now for my amusement and Willow's revenge.." Rue muttered, and Meg struggled against her restraints. "Now now, let us not do that. Pointlessness. Ready Willow?"

"Definitely." Willow said, lifting the hammer with a smirk and bringing it down upon the back of the spike Rue held, sending it though Meg's skull with one swift movement.

Meg screamed, an unimaginable amount of pain searing though her skull as she fell to her knees, holding her forehead as tears ran down her cheeks. Blood oozed from between her fingers, rushing down her arms and disappearing into the blackness that was smothering her. When suddenly, the pain stopped. Meg hesitantly removed her hands from her forehead, throat dry and scratching from her screaming. The click of lights sounded around her, two spotlights moving to aim their blinding beams at her. Meg squinted, placing her hand to her face to block out some of light whilst trying to see something besides the small stage she found herself standing on. She stepped back; examining herself and scowling when she found she was dressed much like a scanty-entertainer, completely with a feathered hat. Immediately disgusted, Meg tossed the hat from her head and threw it across the stage.  
"Mademoiselle, the hat did suit you." A familiar voice mumbled from where to Meg's far left. A dim light shone on a piano, brightening to show the silhouette of the madman from before. Suddenly, he began to play the piano. A dreary tone, but alive with a sardonic like nature, a fitting impromptu for this man. For a moment, Meg felt afraid, but even more so- annoying.  
"Stop playing that god-awful music and tell me what you want with us!" Meg shouted, moving toward the edge of the stage but stopping. Everything between the man and Meg was a sea of black. Us? Worry swept over Meg and she wished she knew where Erik was. Meg jolted as the man slammed his fist down upon a random set of keys, then turned in in his bench to face Meg.  
"All right, my dead. Let us begin the game." He chuckled, motioning toward the middle of the blackness. "Reveal the prize!" Lights shone where the man was gesturing, and seemingly hanging in midair was a large metal cage. Inside was a catatonic looking Erik.

* * *

Gasp- Sorry all, I just have to end it there! Only three more chapter to go.. maybe less, maybe more. It matters if ideas strike me.  
Reviews my.. -blink- reviewers!


	13. Choose

**Fears Within a Dream... **

Meg's eyes grew in fear, staring up at Erik with a horrified expression. He sat in the spacious cage; slumped against the bars with such a lost face that made Meg's heart ached. His mouth was agape slightly; the position that his head lay caused his mask to skew on his face."Erik." Meg breathed, in an absentminded attempted to gain his attention. "Erik!" Meg repeating, snapping out of her shock. She tore her gaze from Erik and back to the silhouetted man. "You!" Meg spat, fury in her eyes, "What did you do to him?"  
"Do to him?" The man's eyes wandered to Erik. "Ah yes, I see what you mean. He looks a bit lethargic, not very becoming, is it?"  
"Like I give a Hell." Meg snapped, motioning to Erik. "Let him go." She said sharply, chest heaving in anger. "Now."  
"Whoa! Mademoiselle, since when is it your job to give instructions?" He waiting for Meg to respond, and when she did not, he shrugged and continued. "I have a better idea. Why do not you, go get him?" He smirked as Meg's gaze fell to examine the sea of black, worry clear in her eyes. "Are you...afraid?" The man mused, leaning back in his piano bench looking smug.  
"No." Meg growled, looking back up at him. "I want to go home. I want us to go home."  
"To Paris?" The man inquired, straightening up and suddenly looking interested.  
"To Paris..." Meg echoed suspiciously.  
"I will let you, go home." A cruel smile tugged at the man's lips and he chuckled, turning back to the piano and playing a soft, accessible tune.  
"Wha-" Meg started, stopping before the sentence could be fulfilled. A long creaking noise sounded from above, causing Meg to jump in surprise. She shot a wary glare at the man, though he seemed to be ignoring her. "What is going on?" Meg inquired, looking up at the shadowed catwalk hanging above her. Something creaked again and Meg's brow contorted in confusion. Was someone walking on the catwalk? Immediately, she thought of Erik and turned her gaze on the illuminated cage. Erik was gone.

Meg started in distress for a moment, looking back and forward from the man to the empty cage. "Where is he?" Meg shouted, voice mixing with the tune being played. "Answer the question!" Meg cried, voice sounded desperate now. There was a loud cracking above her and Meg gasped, looking up as a large beam plunged down upon her. In reflex, she cowered, covering her head with her arms as the beam collided with her. Meg heard a loud snap whilst pain through her body and she crumbled to the ground, everything a blur of color before fading to black.

Meg awoke to a blue, vast sky, watching as white clouds drifting in and out of view. She groaned, feeling as if she had just awoken from a long sleep. Her left hand was against something cold and solid, curious, she moved her hand against whatever it was listlessly, realizing she now that she was lying at the base of a stone statue. Meg exhaled deeply, brow contorting as turned her gaze back to the sky. It was all quite peaceful, lying in the lush grass, watching the clouds. She sighed, a gust of wind fluttering the grass about her. How long had she been lying here..? How long was she dreaming? Dreaming? Meg sat up gingerly, quite confused. Her dress was no longer stiff with dry blood and her hair was clean as well, excluding a few pieces of grass. Looking around, her confusion grew stronger when Meg found the scenery was that of the graveyard she had been in when this all started. Perhaps, it all was a dream?

Shakily, Meg clung to the statue, using it as support as she stood herself up, glancing around warily. She examined the base of the statue for blood, remembering the person whom smashed her head against it some time ago. Mechanically, Meg's hand went to her forehead. No blood was present on the statue, and as Meg straightened up to properly inspect her head, none was there either. Maybe she had simply fell and hit her head, the attack might have simply been her mind playing tricks on her.. But then, how could the whispers be explained? Shaking her head, Meg began to walk forward cautiously, glancing around nervously. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, though the weather had changed noticeably from when she first arrived here. Meg stopped walking, looking around to try and determine the direction of the main gate. Frowning, she picked the route that seemed to be the best choice, and if it was not correct, surely she would at run into the fencing, from there, she could follow it to get to a gate.

Minutes went bye quite quickly as Meg walked on, the grass crunching underneath her feet. Soon, she found herself uninterested in her surrounding and in deep in her own thoughts. This did not make sense, how could everything have simply been the work of her imagination? Surely, her own thoughts where not as.. morbid, as the nightmare had been. Meg stopped, glancing back with a sigh. If she continued, she would return home at last and leave that damned manor behind her. This encouraged her to walk again, but she found herself unable to continue after a few steps. And what of Erik? Was he to stay trapped while she was rewarded freedom? Erik had apparently been stuck in his own hell longer the she had. Erik had many more horrid things happen to him. Without a doubt, it was him who deserved most to be leaving. Glaring pointlessly, Meg forced herself to turn. Hurriedly walking back to the grave she was once crumbled before with a set look of determination. Granted, this could all end with her feeling quite foolish, but she ignored logic. Many a time, in stories and such she had heard stupid actions from certain characters. Now, this whole predicament was like those stories- she would be the heroine whom did not think 'oh- well it all was a dream.'

"Okay!" Meg announced aloud, standing next to the Erinyes statue. "I am certainly not back home, and I told you before, I want both Erik and myself back in Paris." Meg looked around; feeling stupid talking to herself as it seemed she was. A crow flew overhead; landing on a grave to Meg's far left. It fluttered its wings, settling down and staring at her intently, head cocking to the side. '.. I am drawing an audience..' Meg thought, raising a brow as another crow landed on a grave next to the other. 'Of birds..' Sighing, Meg closed her eyes and leaned against the statue of the Kindly One, shaking her head. It all seemed so real.. this did not make sense. Feeling her hope diminish, and reality setting in, Meg was about speak again, when the sound of music reached her ears. She felt her heart begin to beat faster and her pulse increase- in both fear and glee. She opened her eyes, blinking repeatedly as he eyes adjusted to the light. Tapping her foot, she found, indeed, she was again on a stage. Though- this time two false trees were placed at both front corners of the stage. Random, unnamed gravestones were around her as well. In front of her, hung up above with wire, was a scenery piece that resembled the rolling hills of the graveyard. Of course, it was not as real as it had been moments before.

"How compassionate you are, love..." Meg heard a familiar voice call from behind her. She whirled around to see the man she hated so. Though- his voice was much colder, and he sounded worn and irritated, very much unlike how he had been every time she encountered him before. The hanging cage was gone, and his piano was well and he now stood at the edge of the stage, the dim lights eerily lighting his figure. "Unfortunately, I am growing tired of this. And now you must chose, between yourself and your Phantom..""What?" Meg breathed, stepping back and nearly tripping over a headstone.  
"Dear, you are lovely, but act incredibly stupid and deaf sometimes." The man sighed, though Meg caught sight of a smirk pulling at his lips. "You stay, or he stays- choose. I would rather have you."  
"How do you expect me to do that?" Meg said, straightening up and glaring at him.  
"By communication my dear. Save yourself, say 'The Phantom' and you-"  
"Erik." Meg corrected him, receiving a snort in response.  
"Call him what you wish, we judge him and dub him by his soul. Choose."  
"Where is he?"  
"Choose now!" The man said quite loudly, clenching his jaws.  
"What have you done with?" Meg asked coolly, ignoring his demand.  
"Choose!" He shouted in rage, making Meg flinch subtly but she held her determined stance.  
"Where is Erik?" Meg said, pronouncing each word clearly as if she thought him unable of comprehending her.  
"There! You persistent wench!" The man cried angrily, pointing to the blackness that engulfed the area where the seating should have been. "We will keep you both!" He laughed madly. "You best hurry my love, he could be drowning."

Meg tensed, staring at the man in fear, not of him, but for Erik. Was that really water? Was Erik truly drowning? Running forward, not longer caring how close she got to the man, Meg reached the edge of the stage. She was about to jump when she hesitated and, glancing over at the amused looking man, hurriedly removed layers of petticoats and leapt into the blackness. Black water splashed around her like ink, the dress of her skirt fluffing up about her as well. Meg spluttered, realizing quite suddenly- she had no idea how to swim. In panic, Meg began to thrash in the water, sinking under once or twice while swallowed a good deal of water in her fit, coughing it up and gagging from the salty taste.

It then hit her that she had died many times in this place, and had come back to life somewhere else. That was it, Meg had to let herself die. Despite her adrenaline, she forced herself to calm a considerable amount. 'Let yourself die.' The idea sounded stupid when thought- but yet, it made perfect sense. Smirking, she looked up at the man, who was peering down at her as she fought to stay above water. Meg noticed a change in his piercing eyes, he seemed- distraught. Perhaps he knew, by Meg's sudden ceasing in vicious thrashing, what she had decided.

Exhaling, Meg lifted her arms and let her heavy clothing weigh her down as she submerged. Her dress went up about her as she sunk lower and lower. With her eyes open Meg could see nothing but black. Involuntarily, Meg began to attempt to swim upward, mechanically, her mind wanted to keep from death. Opening her mouth, Meg breathed in the water, feeling rush in and flood her lungs. Fear and panic overtook her and with the last of her strength she began to thrash pointlessly, slowing as she became lightheaded, but soon, there was nothing. A strange feeling of tranquility flowed over her, no fear, and no nausea. Her worries melted away as this heaven-like sensation filled her. Meg felt at peace- 'Perhaps now, I can be with Maman.'


	14. Sopping

**Fears Within a Dream...**

Listening intently to the eerie echo of his own footsteps, Erik ambled idly down the dim corridor. The lit sconces seemed not to aid at all in lighting the hallway, the only true light laminated from some unseen source. Curiously, Erik paused in the hallway aside to a sconce, glowering for a moment, before his gaze turned to the sconce. The flame flickered violently, as if it were in fear of being smothered by the dim light that surrounded it. With an idle hand, Erik reached out to the flame, impassively holding his gloved hand above it. No burn. Eyes lighting with curiosity, he ran his hand through the flame leisurely. The flame sputtered, then extinguished by the lack of oxygen. Brow furrowing, Erik stepped back, staring at the rising, thin line of smoke as it whirled and died. Starting back at the echo of a thud, Erik stood poised for a moment, before his alarm waned and he straightened up. He hesitated to explore the noise further, though as the sound of violent choking followed, Erik took off in a steady sprint.

Careening round the corners of the maze of hallways, Erik's heart raced in worry and excitement. The only logical person he would imagine was Meg. Though, this place had created persons to daunt him before, perhaps this was another trick? And he would stumble upon someone dying, someone...'Like Christine.' His mind suggested, and he slowed, heart sinking. No, she came in different manners. Much different, and much worse.

As Erik cautiously rounded a corner, he stared momentarily at the withering mess of cloth on the floor in front of him. Meg lay recumbent, soaked and gasping for breath. Her hair was disheveled, veiling her face as she shakily inhaled and lifted one hand to her mouth whilst her other supported her. "Meg." Erik called hastily, striding to her and kneeling aside her. In response, Meg heaved a sigh of relief before falling into another coughing fit. Hurriedly, Erik reached to brush back the sodden hair from Meg's face. As her coughing, waned, Meg tilted her head to look at Erik, a trail of saliva mixed water trailing down her chin.

"I died." She choked, and Erik's brow contorted. Meg's body trembled in exhaustion, as she stared at Erik with a triumphant countenance. Keeping his quires at bay, Erik grasped Meg's upper arms and gingerly maneuvered her into a sitting position, leaning her back against the wall. Settled, he gazed at the disheveled woman in front of him as her body relaxed and she exhaled wearily. "Heavy.." She murmured, closing her eyes and leaning against the wall. After a pause, she opened her eyes and gazed at Erik. "Are you okay?" She inquired, and instead of receiving the cold glare she expected, Erik nodded gravely,

"Better than yourself, Mademoiselle, by the looks of things." He commented placidly as he reached to remove his cravat. Once done, he slid it from his collar and handed the cloth out to Meg, who nodded her thanks and began to dry her face. Taking this time to rest, Erik fell to a sitting position, surveying Meg to determine if she was well enough to speak.  
"Thank you." She said quietly, reaching forward to offer his cravat back. Though, Erik pantomimed throwing it aside, and Meg did so before clearing her throat. She felt sick, and despite having coughed up much water, it still felt as if her lungs were water logged, and her own body felt like lead.  
"What happened?" Erik inquired listlessly, sounding disinterested. His tone disheartened her subtly, as she imagined he was merely asking to begin conversation- not that he would care.  
"I believe I won. You know? Erik, were you harmed? You...were caged and then when you disappeared, I thought something horrid must have happened to you." Meg inclined her head as she reached to wring out her hair, listening to the noise of the water falling to the carpet. Her voice became less distress and more placid. "I irritated that man, and I allowed myself to drown." Sighing, she glanced over at Erik and listlessly shook off her hands. Lifting her gaze to Erik's, she resisted the urge to bridle in response to his irked manner.  
"At least you are well." Erik glowered, clearly aware Meg was purposely not enlightening him. Shifting, Erik leaned against the opposite wall, watching as Meg averting her eyes.

Uncomfortable under Erik's disapproving gaze, Meg resisted the urge to fill in the missing sections of her story. Though, looking back she imagined it was not of importance- and Erik was not telling her what happened to him either. So why must she? Time slipped by with an uncomfortable air between them, Meg lost interest in trying to spark conversation with the brooding Phantom, after awkwardly discussing the state of drowning to...herself. Instead, she took the time to periodically drift in and out of sleep without a second though of the ominous man who sat some few feet away from her.

"We should be going." A resonant voice aside her mused, breaking the silence. Erik brushed himself off, standing, he gazed down at Meg as her eyes fluttered open. "Are you able to?" He inquired, offering his right hand down to her.  
"Mmhm." Meg sounded, nodding before reaching to grasp Erik's arm. Pulling herself up, and grunting in the process, she clung to his arm desperately, as the weight of her sopping petticoats weighted her down. Steadying herself, and surprised Erik did not nearly fall over himself, Meg reached with one hand to remove what she could of the wet under slips, unaware that her grasp on Erik's arm was tightening. Watching her for a moment, Erik turned his head away and waited patiently, ignoring the lack of blood circulating to his lower arm.

Squirming out of, and kicking aside two petticoats, Meg smiled, feeling much lighter now with only a single slip. "Better." She voiced, looking over at Erik who looked over at her, blinking blankly for he glared. "...What?" Meg inquired, confused.  
"I cannot feel my arm." Erik enlightened placidly, and Meg smiled sheepishly before releasing him.  
"My apologies." Meg said quietly, stepping back and taking a moment to brush the hair from her face, wishing she had some way of tying it back. "Oh! Wait Erik." She said hurriedly, before turning and kneeling beside one of the slips. Grasping the wet cloth with one hand, she grabbed the hem with her other and took some seconds before she was able to successfully rip a strip of cloth. Smiling, she straightened up and looked at Erik, though, remembering his callous nature, her smile faded as she averted her eyes and took to tying back her hair. Once finished, she nodded and gestured for Erik to lead the way. He stared intently at her, before turning and beginning his steady gait down the hall. Silently, Meg strode after him, sighing in annoyance with the discomfort of her dress and developing a hatred for anything wet.

"It is rather dark down here." Meg observed, glancing around the hall Erik and herself currently occupied. "It doesn't look a bit like the other halls..." She murmured, gazing at Erik's back. He was silent, though the air round him told Meg he was simply thinking. So, she remained quiet, and instead put her interest in watching a staircase to the right of her. "I wonder.." She whispered, hesitating to follow Erik as she caught sight of a change in lighting on the staircase. Like a cloud of ink, darkness began to ascend round the corner of the stairs; idly melting its way down each stair. The smooth moments seemed enchanting, and Meg found herself staring dumbfounded despite her mind protesting for her to run, scream, do anything productive but stare. Her eyes grew wide, as from the wall of blackness, rotten hands reached. Peeling, and seemly molded in water, the grayish hands, melted in the tar like blackness, ascended down the stairs. Meg startled, feeling a strong grasp on her shoulder. Looking over, she stared at Erik for a moment, before looking back at the stairs.

"Run!" Erik demanded strictly, before grasping Meg's wrist and tugging. She seemed to protest for a moment, though soon torn her eyes away and stumbled, as Erik all but began dragging her down the hall.

"What was that!" Meg cried, as she dared to look back. The thrashing hands seemed to disappear, and now only darkness drew toward them. "Erik?" She called breathlessly, though it seemed he had released her hand, and her hand was now trailing something smooth. Stopping, she looked aside her, staring at what appeared to be glass. Lifting her gaze, she stared at the masked face behind the glass. "Oh God..." Meg whispered, stepping back and staring at the glass that separated them. He turned to look down the hall. The dark shadow was still ascending, though now was enveloping toward both Erik and Meg. In distress, Meg whirled about to look around, catching sight of a door. Upon seeing it, she looked over at where Erik stood, and he nodded before hesitantly turning and looking down the corridor, mouthing something to Meg before turning and leaving through a door of his own.

Inhaling deeply, Meg nodded gravely before turning and reaching to enter the door to her left, closing her eyes warily as she stepped into the darkness of the room.


	15. Artificial

**Fears Within a Dream...**

Light flooded through Meg's eyelids, promptly following the click of the locking door. Bringing a hand to her forehead to block the intense light, the young woman attempted to open her eyes, only she found herself unable to do so. In a nervous fit of confusion, she cowered back into the door, groping at the air fruitless in front of her. Something dangerous could be in the room, and she could not see! Why were her eyes not opening! _My God, have I gone blind? _Meg thought in panic, moving her hands to her eyes. No, they were simply shut, why could she not open them...? The panic fled from her, and Meg sighed in relief- that is until she ran her index fingers under her eyes. Scowling, in both disgust and confusion, she brought her hands out in front of her face, the sensation of some sort of viscous liquid sticking to her fingers, and whatever it was had begun to slowly seep down her cheeks. Exhaling loudly in an exclamation of disgust, Meg flung out her hands pointlessly. Still unable to open her eyes, apparently because of the substance, she dare not wander forward. Turning round instead, Meg fumbled to locate the doorknob, relieved to find it still present. Tugging, Meg fought for freedom, but the door refused to be opened.

Cursing under her breath, Meg kicked the door, before collecting herself and unsteadily turning again to face the light. Strangely, the light had dimmed to a soft, red glow through her eyelids. Though, instead of being comforted, this only added her uneasiness. Inhaling deeply, Meg put on a firm countenance, before boldly stepping forward. Pain was pain, whatever was waiting, surely she could handle it. Though, she nearly shuddered at the remembrance of the unbearable pain from shattered knees. She had lived through that, Meg reasoned, as well as technically drowning. "This is all a dream..." Meg murmured, as if she was speaking to some unknown person in the room. With this, her mind began to drift to Erik. _'Yes, think of something else. Think of Erik.'_ Her mind endorsed. Though, Meg had no time to mull, as a sharp wind rushed over her, and with that carried the hard scent of rotting flesh. "Ugh!" Meg sounded, bring her hand to cover her nose, despite the still present sticky substance. "What is that?" She cried in disgust, before her foot caught on something. Gasping, Meg threw out her arms to steady herself, again fighting to open her eyes, growling in frustration when she found it useless. What had she tripped over? Curiosity overcoming the little uncertainty in her mind, Meg kneeled, making her again aware of her damp clothing. Shrugging off the discomfort, in light of more serious issues, Meg tentatively lowered her hands down toward the floor. Her breath caught for a moment, until a faint laugh passed her lips- the carpet- it was nothing but a bunch in the carpet. "You could have done better.." Meg remarked coolly, sneering faintly. A house of horrors, right? Allowing a bit of uneasy laughter to pass from her throat, Meg made to stand, before the stench of death altered with a subtle gust of wind.

Remaining motionless, Meg stilled crouched on the ground with her hands on the carpet. Frozen, not from fear, but wariness. No, Meg found she was no longer afraid, and imagined she would be fit to face whatever was in front of her- the problem was- she could not _see_ what was in front of her. Though, the calming scent of roses was nice, an extreme leap from whatever seemed to have been dying some moments before. As well, her dress was no longer wet. Enjoying the sudden, tranquil atmosphere, Meg leisurely stood. "Open your eyes." A voice instructed, divine and even, it sounded as if some celestial being was commanding her. And so- she obeyed with no question, finding her eyes allowed this, though the substance not only made this into a delicate procedure, her vision was additionally distorted and tinted amber.

"I cannot see..." Meg murmured, her voice taking on a softer tone. As first she took no notice, until replaying the complaint in her head, she nearly scowled. Meg guessed the light feeling of contentment and comfort, was taking effect on her. Slowly, it seemed the amber liquid fell from her vision.

Meg found herself in a fairly normal sized, red-tinted room, from some light source Meg had not cared to locate. To the right was a pine armoire brocade and to the left of that a rather large commode, topped with well placed red roses, with lit candles, which stood where the stems crossed. Closer to Meg, on the left as well, was a large fireplace, though it was not lit. Elaborate brocade curtains canopied the inlaid sleigh bed that rested against the wall in the middle of the windowless room. It was not until Meg's gaze fell on the shadowed figure that stood aside the back curtain, that she brightened, lost her dazed countenance. "Erik.." Meg breathed in a gentle tone, and nearly choked when the voice that came out was barely her own. In her mind, she had voiced his name in a somewhat vivacious exclamation of relief. Finding herself unable to clear her throat, Meg instead tried to speak again. "I am so glad I found you." She enlightened, less taken back by the way her voice sounded.  
"As am I.." Erik replied coolly, in the same heavenly voice. Though, Meg decided their was something wrong with it, it was almost artificial.

Staring blankly, Meg watched as the masked man moved from the shadows and to the commode. "Erik, I believe there is something wrong with my voice..." She trailed off wryly, watching as he leisurely began to put out the candles with a simple wave of his hand.

"I find nothing peculiar regarding your voice." Erik responded, in the same level voice.  
"How is it you cannot tell?" She inquired politely, despite how she had meant to sound taken back. It was quiet, and Meg realized that Erik had no intention on answering her query.  
"Marguerite..." The unreal voice began, as Erik lifted his gaze to her, the last of the candles being extinguished. The room was dimmed, though the red tint still remained. Strolling toward Meg leisurely, Erik continued. "As a child...I...interested you, did I not?" He inquired in a soft, intoxicating voice as he approached her. For a moment, Meg stood still, staring at the masked man before her. Erik had stopped at an unacceptable distance from her, with a fixated gaze that made Meg extremely uncomfortable.  
"Yes..." Meg admitted, her voice sounding wistfully despite how she stepped back. Her voice was not her own, if this was Erik; it was her who was provoking him. Why could not speak her own words? Frustrated, Meg showed this clearly in her expression. Erik would understand by that, would he not? Meg had no intention of toying with him, but she was afraid to speak again, if her own voice betrayed her. No luck, the look in Erik's eyes had not changed, and instead of drawing away, Erik had reached to cup Meg's face in his hands lightly. Finding herself unable to move, Meg struggled to keep from speaking. How could he not tell? Surely, she looked terrified, why was Erik not pulling away? "Then...allow me to fascinate you..." He began, leaning forward in a sort of motion to bring his lips to hers.

Eyes widening, Meg suddenly let out a loud shriek, throwing her arms out into Erik's face. Shoving him away, she stumbled back, watching as Erik pressed his hand against his mask to assure Meg's attack had not thrown it off. Meg expected him to look hurt, or confused, instead, he was sneering. Glowering, Meg pointing an accusing finger at the man. "You are not Erik!" She cried, inside cheering, at the recognition of her own tone; her not so crystal clear voice was hers once again! Meg was amazed at how thankful she was to once again fully be herself. Though- she quickly collected herself, and began to step back and move away from the man who posed as Erik.

"What does it matter?" The impersonator chuckled, watching Meg all the while. "He belongs to this house, as you do. The Phantom is as much Erik as I." He paused, as Meg stopped her retreat, to scowl at him.  
"There is no Phantom." Meg corrected, as if she was scolding the other ballet girls. Rising her hand, she shook her index finger at the impersonator. "Erik is Erik. Maman told me so."

"Your mother is dead." The impersonator informed smugly, and Meg visibly flinched.   
"Yes, she is." She replied coldly, in a near snarl. The impersonator held out his hands in apology, before straightening up, and placing his arms akimbo.  
"Forgive me, I spoke impolitely. Marguerite, there is no way you can escape. Hopelessly, you are trapped here, left to wander for eternity. I offer you this, because I so wish you will accept, if you agree to stay with me- forever, you will live as if you would with the phantom you call Erik." The impersonator made his offer, and for a moment, Meg's countenance went blank. She surveyed the impersonator, and found him no different than Erik. But his voice, the impersonator's voice was different.   
"No." Meg replied easily, crossing her hands over her chest in a childish manner. Though, with no time to continue, or scoff, Meg felt a death grip tighten around her neck. Eyes flying open, she found herself staring into the burning eyes of the impersonator, though, in instead of fury, they flared with amusement.

"Do you think he will love you?" The impersonator sneered, tightening his grip on her neck, the more she thrashed. "With that voice?" He laughed loudly, before murmuring something about a face, watching Meg's terror filled eyes, as she gasped loudly for breath, pushing back on his wrist. "You are-" The impersonator began, voice loud and resounding, before it cut off in a horrid retch. His grip on Meg's throat loosened, and promptly Meg sunk toward the ground, inhaling in deep, uneven breaths as life returned to her. Head spinning from the lack of oxygen, she forced herself to slink away, as she stared at the two identical men.

Erik had seemingly appeared in the room from no where, having ran to the fireplace furtively, and retrieved a fire poker, he had returned to lance the impersonator to the right, under his ribs. Meg watched as blood began to rush from the wound, flowing down the wrought iron and rolling over Erik's hands. The impersonator gagged, smile falling lopsided as Erik pressed the poker farther into his side. Erik's glare was vicious and intense, even as the impersonator slowly began to maneuver to face him, the sound of his flesh tearing as he did so, his caught clothing twisting oddly. The blood was running in rivers now, pouring down onto the floor, creating a puddle round his feet. In nearly all manners, he appeared careless, if not for his ragged breath. "Monster." The impersonator spat, blood mottling Erik's mask. He smirked for a moment more, before his body went rigid, and whatever kind of life in the doll seemed to seep from him. Pupils dilating, he withered, going lifeless before he crumbled to the floor before Erik's feet.

It was quiet for a long moment, as Erik released the fire poker. Staring down, at the dead man on the floor, he was nearly interested in viewing himself as an actual corpse. Stepping back, the floor again caught his attention- it was spinning, altering to a dust colour. Steadying himself, Erik waited until the surroundings settled, before he lifted his gaze to Meg. She was staring at him, looking bewildered, and somewhat frightened. Erik expected her to run, after seeing him kill; did it matter who? He had done it without thought, without care- like a genuine maniac.  
"Thank you Erik!" Meg cried in relief, her voice echoing through the empty foyer. Running forward, dust trailing her, she wrapped her arms around him. Going rigid, Erik stared in surprise past her, until she moved away in a somewhat uncomfortable manner. "Yes..." She murmured, averting her eyes for a moment before clearing her throat. "Really, Erik. It was all quite a strange story; do you want to know what happened?" Meg inquired, she was proud of herself, being so resistant, and wanted Erik to know how she had replied to the impersonator's query. He did not answer, and instead had taken to staring at her in a curious manner. Though, Meg ignored this and began to explain in an unclear manner. "There were roses, quite a few actually, it was...very, cliche. Roses."  
"What is wrong with roses?" He inquired, though sounded disinterested."Nothing...it is simply that..." Meg trailed off, as Erik reached for her face. Freezing, she stared blankly, until his fingertips gently brushed her left cheek. She waited patiently, until Erik took his hand back, and watched him as he studied his fingertips.  
"You have honey on your face, mademoiselle." He enlightened, in a dry manner.  
"That is what that was!" Meg exclaimed, before bringing her hands to her face. Thinking back, Meg could not help but put on a disgusted countenance. Wiping the sweetener off on his dinner jacket, Erik noted the missing corpse, and the blood that seemed to disappear from his hands. With a wary glance, and looking suddenly exhausted, he took off without a word toward the stairs.

Staring dumbly after Erik, it took Meg a second before she started after him. "Erik, I am quite tired, do you think we could rest?" She inquired, following him up the steps, her trail from before still present. He did not speak, until reaching the top of the stairs, and reaching the nearest wall, which turned to form the first hallway to the left.

"Yes- if you so wish." He allowed, sounding somewhat irked; though Meg believed he was thankful for the chance to take a break himself. Tentatively, Meg strode to him, before sighing softly and sinking to the floor in front of the wall. When Erik had not moved for a nearly a minute, Meg looked up at him, leaning back against the wall. The air between them was awkward, and had begun to annoy Meg.  
"I knew it was not you, monsieur." She informed, and this seemed to pull Erik from his thoughts. He had lowered himself to the floor as well, and graced her with a glance.  
"How clever you are." He commented dryly, though it seemed he was not trying to insult her. Really, Meg felt pleased. Erik had sat beside her, not across, or down some ways. Without an answer, Meg turned her head away, staring through the wrought iron bars of the railing impassively. It was then, in a brief moment, a faint sort of sadness washed over her. If she were alone, Meg did not doubt she would have gone insane in this place. Erik had been alone. Now, after thinking back to the simple, now unfamiliar sentiment of comfort she had in the room before being approached, she was desperate for something other than dust and blood. Looking over at Erik, she hesitated visibly, before shifting and then very quickly, leaning against him.

Meg felt Erik tense; though despite how Erik appeared uncomfortable, he had not move. Meg waited for a moment, before she exhaling deeply and maneuvered to rest better against Erik's shoulder. Inclining her head, she breathed in his scent and smiled subtly. _'He smells nothing like roses.'_ Meg discovered, finding the idea was foolish to begin with. No, Erik smiled like sandalwood. Closing her eyes, Meg exhaled, drifting off to sleep before she felt Erik relax.


	16. Hesitation

**Fears Within a Dream... **

Meg's mind was drifting in and out of consciousness. Despite her physical exhaustion, her thoughts refused to allow her to completely fall into sleep. How long had she been lost with the phantom? Surely, it had been nearly a week, or more? Or perhaps time moved faster here, so then maybe two. Meg shifted restlessly, brow furrowed in subtle discomfort. She had also noticed how thin Erik was throughout her time dozing. While she found his presence itself reassuring, he made for poor padding. It nearly made Meg laugh to think she expected anything more. It was odd enough that his company comforted her, after all, she had been frightened of this man's legend for most of her childhood...while, exacerbating it herself. Though, Meg was sure she was not regretful about doing so. She was a child, assisting in spreading rumours and amusing herself, when she was not practicing or performing, of course. It had all been in good fun, surely Erik understood, considering he had not helped his reputation any by his ominous threats and pert spirit. Or that was how it seemed, according to the gossip backstage. But the phantom near her was certainly different. His harsh behaviour seemed logical though, considering their predicament; hopefully that was the reason. Meg shrugged, accepting that she would never really know. Though, with this action she realized quickly how cold Erik was, physically, and even more solid- she then recognized it was not Erik at all.

Eyes opening rapidly, Meg leaned away from the metal wall she was leaning against swiftly, looking somewhat startled. Once she calmed, she shifted away from the wall, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting gradually. When her vision returned, Meg cast a glance around the room with metal walls until her attention fell on the black adorned man sitting in the far corner. "We were not separated." Meg said evenly, smiling subtly before her relieved countenance faltered into confusion as she heard him sigh forlornly. She blinked blankly, as his shoulders flagged and he murmured something incoherently. "Can you hear me, Erik?" Meg inquired, certain he could not. This was assured when he did not snap at her to 'keep quiet' or inform that he was 'busy thinking'. Sighing herself, but in frustration, Meg looked away and took a moment to look round the room again. Nothing had changed, and so Meg looked back to Erik and slowly stood. Surprisingly, she found herself unafraid, and stepped intrepidly to Erik. Lacing her hands behind her back, she leaned to the left to see what exactly he was doing, only to again be consumed by confusion. "What...?" She queried aloud, watching Erik's hand idly as he trailed his fingers through the puddle of water before him. He was speaking, melodic voice fraught with guilt and despair, coming in in waves, as if from a damaged radio.

"I didn't mean-" "Yes Chri-" "...was only bec-" "...understand...had to." The desperation in Erik's voice made Meg's heart sink, and the fact that whatever Erik was struggling to explain; he was going to fail.

And Meg was right- suddenly Erik went rigid and bridled. This manner changed so quickly, it made Meg take a large leap back. "No! Don't...!" He cried, voice a mixture of anger and pain. Meg was sure there was more said, but a sudden feeling of nausea came over her and she fought to keep her balance. Reaching up to clutch her head, whilst fighting away the threat of sickness, Meg felt her feet give way underneath her. Throwing her arms out in a fruitless attempt to steady herself, she fell back, squeezing her eyes closed as she braced herself for the impact. But it never came.

The noise of rustling was all that sounded, and thankfully the nausea had waned completely. Warily opening her eyes, Meg found herself staring at an overcast sky and framing her vision was bistre-coloured wheat. She smiled subtly, feel much lighter in mind then she had for quite some time. Inhaling deeply, she took some minutes to relax and listen to the swaying wheat before exhaling and gracelessly sitting up. Meg placed her hands behind her against the folded wheat, where she once laid, pausing momentarily before standing and brushing herself off. She hesitated, aware she was wearing a much different dress, one much more exclusive than anything she owned. Turning, Meg looked from the slope she stood, down the waving field, to the bare, awry trees below that towered in shadow. There was something amiss about said trees, and regardless of her unexplainable dread of moving toward the darkness, Meg began to carefully make her way through the wheat and down the hill.

When the ground had leveled, Meg had noticed several odd things. For one, her skin was of a different tone; it was lighter than she remembered it, as well, her perception was altered, as if she had grown taller. One thing was certain; Meg no longer felt as if she was in her own skin. Putting the idea of locating a mirror aside, she took the time to step in a circle, noting the crimson smears in the sky. Glaring suspiciously for a moment, she halted abruptly and turned to make her way to the trees. When she had reached the nearest one, Meg examined what was supposed to be bark. Though, it appeared much different, in fact all the trees appeared thus from her close proximity. Curiously, Meg reached out and brushed her hand across the trunk of the black tree, drawing back her hand to examine it. There were black smudges along her hand, and it took her only a moment to realize it was charcoal. Her eyes widened subtly in surprise, and with a faint smile, she reached to write her name on the tree in amusement. When finished, Meg brushed a hand carelessly off on the white dress. After all, it was not her dress, and she believed it was not her own body. At present, she had no idea where or who she was currently, but in her mind she was Meg Giry. Mostly. Meg paused thoughtfully, before losing interest and sidestepping from the tree to peer through the withered trucks. Through the charcoal trees, she could see the shimmer of water. Perhaps there was a lake of some sort? With this thought, Meg stepped forward but stopped almost immediately. The darkness the trees created made her uneasiness return, and Meg scowled. Whoever this person was, she was certainly not as audacious as herself. With an exaggerated sigh, Meg turned her back on the trees, treading away from them and heading in the other direction. She had to find some way out of here, and through the trees seemed to have been productive enough to start some action from this place. Perhaps Erik was nearby? She could call for him. Meg paused; glancing around and guessed it to be a fine idea; in any case, she was anxious to hear whoever's voice she possessed.

As Meg opened her mouth to yell Erik's name- the call of another name had interrupted. "Christine!"


	17. Backward

**Fears Within a Dream... **

A tranquil calm had settled over Erik as he began to slowly reawaken. There was a heavy suppression on his ears, and it seemed, he had gone deaf. Despite this oddity, Erik laid still for a moment, suddenly feeling terribly weary. However, when the man attempted to inhale, a rush of liquid obstructing his throat startled him. In panic, Erik's eyes flew opened; only he found a haze of crimson before his eyes. Immediately, he began to thrash in an effort to free himself from the tinted water. Erik remained stationary despite this, as his hands groped hysterically from the water, to the air. Turning his head, the man desperately sought for air, but the surface was unreachable, inches away from his lips. With a last serge of fear, he hopelessly began to try to push himself from the water as if it were solid. Fruitless, Erik slowly grew still, mind dimming. Abruptly, however, as if his capitulation played a trigger, the water suddenly became manageable, and Erik felt himself sink in its depths. Jolting up right, Erik twisted over, and supine, sat up to break the surface. Coughing, bloody water spilled from his mouth, splattering back into the water rhythmically. With sharp inhales, he attempted to mentally grasp his situation, and understand exactly where he was. Despite his fatigue, Erik idly stood in the water, which was now only hazy from the murky soil which his shifting had stirred. When he collected himself, Erik trod through the peat bog, to the grimy bank. Scowling, he stumbled away from the muddy edge. Reaching to wipe the blood from his mouth, Erik exhaled lightly, realizing then, that he was unmasked. With a start, Erik institutively reached to cover his malformed countenance, whilst standing poised, hastily casting a glance at his surroundings. There, however, was no one present to observe his hideousness, but the crooked, bare oaks.

Warily, Erik allowed his hand to drop from his face, exhaling sharply from behind his teeth, sounding a soft hiss. Gold eyes narrowing, he looked back to the dark, grassy marsh, which lay behind him. Looking forward, there laid a forest. And so, to avoid anymore travels through wetland, Erik started forward aimlessly. In the range of fifteen minutes, the forest surrounding him began to thin, and soon, opened up into a barren circle, the earth beneath his feet a rustic colour. And in the earth, Erik realized with a scowl, stood four posts, and crookedly on each, laid an impaled skull. Firstly, Erik only gazed at the display carelessly, until he stepped closer, and saw that the left most skull, wore his mask. Rolling his eyes, Erik let out an exclamation of annoyance, and carelessly, unimpressed with the sight he believed was supposed to frighten him, strode foreword and quickly retrieved his mask. For a second, Erik lost his composure, as skull behind the mask, momentarily took the living features of the woman he could never possibly forget. Scuttling back, Erik cowered, looking to the bleached skull, as if it had grew tenfold more fearsome. Recovering, Erik glowered furiously, and straightening up, clutching his mask, kicked over the stake with a vicious growl. The stake reeled through the air, landing with a thud, as the skull continued past it. After a brief pause, Erik replaced his mask on his face, scanning the three remaining stakes, before turning abruptly and marching to the right.

Continuing through the forest, Erik felt as if now, he was truly moving toward something. The darkness that once thickened the forest was thinning, and so he fancied he would soon be out from the oaks. Though, the closer Erik believed he came to the boarder of the forest, the more chary he became. Several times, he considered turning back, only to become annoyed with this thought, and continue onward. It was with an air of relief that before him, through the spaced trees, laid the golden scene of a rolling meadow. Hurrying his steps, Erik stepped out into the open air, only to cringe beneath the rays of the sun. He shot a look of contempt to the sky, and shied momentarily, back into the trees. However, in the distance, standing with the art of an angel, was most beautiful woman, he could ever, and would ever want to, imagine.

Suddenly, Erik felt extremely light, and hurriedly started forward toward the blonde woman, who stood with her back to him. Reality sharply bit at him, though, and Erik hesitated, forcing himself to stop. It occurred to him again, for what had to be the millionth time, that the woman who stood in the distance was not real. She was only placed to torment him; another delusion of the metaphysical edifice, which created all that currently surrounded him. However, he could not ignore the desire that itched at his very marrow. And though his encounter with the same woman lead always in the same dreadful direction, deep in misery and culpability, Erik still stepped forward. His usual manner failed completely, and he sunk docilely as he approached her. And when he was several yards away, Erik called Christine's name.


	18. Mania

**Fears Within a Dream... **

On hearing Christine's name, Meg turned quickly to face the person who had called it. Upon seeing Erik, Meg stepped back, surprised. She gathered she would have recognized his dulcet voice, though it held a much more careful, tender tone, than Meg had become used to. Inwardly Meg quirked a questionable brow at Erik, before remembering that she seemed to in possession of a different physical body. It then hit her; she was in the body of Christine! Meg almost laughed at the idea, though this faltered with Erik's strange air. "Erik, I'm not Christine." Meg corrected, with the same look she had given him moments ago. Though, it seemed Erik could not hear, or rather, that Christine's lips did not allow her words to be heard. Instead, Meg now felt as if she was a spectre to the two persons, and was observing them, with no distinct body of her own.

Christine sighed heavily, in what seemed like a mixture of displeasure and pity. "Hello, Erik." Christine greeted evenly, and stepped closer to him, taking his hand lightly with an empathic expression. "What are you doing here?" She inquired, and shook her head, as if Erik had a bad habit of returning to where he stood. Erik appeared somewhat confused by Christine's words, and looked down at Christine's hands, then up to peer around at his surrounds. His wavering gaze returned to Christine, and he opened his mouth to speak but Christine cut him off. "Erik," Christine began, with another sigh, and a subtle smile, "I though I had made it clear to you last time. How many times must I tell you? You and your persistence." Patting his hand, Christine withdrew from Erik, and frowned at him. "I am happy, with Raoul. Erik, this is how it is suppose to be…you keep hurting yourself by coming back."

"No, Christine...I was not coming back, I was…" Trailing off, Erik appeared completely lost, and strangely weak, under Christine's gaze.

"I do not want…to see you again, Erik. What right do you have of intruding?" Christine informed, closing her eyes, and sighing again.

These words straightened Erik, and he glared at the young woman, as if she had slighted him. Christine noticed this promptly, and she returned his glare, stepping backward, as if she was now the one afraid.

"Do not start that Erik. You will not sway me by taking advantage of my pity."

"Not your pity, Christine, but your guilt!" Erik snapped back, suddenly vicious and irked.

"I am not guilty!" Christine insisted, holding her ground now, and giving Erik a distasteful look. "Trust me, I have heard it all from you, and Erik, I have reprimanded myself in the same way. I have called myself shallow, but Erik, I am not! I didn't only leave you because of your face, God Erik that is not why. And I have always appreciated what you have done for me, but you're no victim."  
"Careful, Christine." Erik hissed threateningly, though she paid no heed, and continued.  
"You've killed people, Erik! Not in self-defence, but for someone's entertainment! They had done nothing to you! Above that, you are cruel! You kidnapped me, Erik! That is nothing to be taken lightly! Against my own will, you took me, and you cannot begin to understand how it feels to have your freedom stripped from you."  
"I only had done that because-"  
"Because why? Because you love me? How do you not get it?" Christine cut off Erik sharply, and was to Erik, uncharacteristically intimidating. She began to march toward him, and Erik, at a loss as to what else to do, moved back to avoid her. "That isn't love, Erik! That is mania, which is completely different! You stole me because you are selfish, completely selfish! And love is about sharing! Love cannot be one sided!" Taking a deep breath, she jabbed a finger toward him angrily. "I know you were hurt Erik, and that your life has been wrought with difficulties and sorrows, but that is no excuse for what you have done. To me and to everyone who has suffered because of you- because other people have, Erik!"  
"Be quiet!" Erik cried fiercely, and in the manner of a child, pressed his hands to his ears, despite how this did nothing to mute Christine's voice.  
"And you still do not see! Take responsibly for your actions, Erik, they are your own, no one made you do any of the cruel things you have done! Call me merciless, but no one should be able to tell you that they do not care what you have done in your past, because that does matter Erik...it matters, a lot. Your past is a part of who you are."  
"Shut up!" Erik cried, though the demand sounded as a plea.  
"If you were stronger, you would have been able to save yourself from the animosity which ruins you." With those dying words, Christine appeared to dissolve, and in her wake, was left Meg. Erik had turned completely away, when Christine had been speaking, his breathing was irregular, and Meg could not decipher if it was because of angry, or sorrow.

Though Christine's words were obviously not from the woman herself, Meg still felt they were justified, though if not a little harsh. It was true, anyone could play Erik to be a sufferer, sculpted by an unforgiving society. However, in the light of Christine's rant, knowing Erik had murdered, in circumstances that Christine had said were not justified, Meg could find no pity for him. It was, in any case, his own imagination, which had been reproaching him, so Erik unconsciousness must not be accepting it. Thinking that that was well, Meg stepped forward toward Erik, and voiced his name. At the sound of her voice, Erik groaned, as if terribly annoyed to know she was standing behind him. Scowling, and childishly feeling snubbed, Meg turned away from Erik. "Fine, I was just going to be nice." Shrugging a shoulder, the petite woman sat on the ground some feet away from Erik, who fell so silent, Meg would have expected him dead, if he had not been standing.

The silence between them had to begun to annoy Meg, though, she fought to keep from speaking. Her concerns however, about their surrounds, rose, and she looked back to Erik, outstretching her legs and placing her hands on the ground behind her. "Erik...you still love Christine, don't you?" Meg inquired thoughtlessly, and was surprised, when Erik responded.  
"Yes." With a long sigh, Erik glanced down to Meg, who tapped the tips of her shoes together absentmindedly. "I will love her perpetually." This only made Meg smirk, at the thought of someone loving someone else so fervently. If it was love at all.  
"Do you think you could love anyone else, like you do her?" Meg queried, stilling her feet, as a short period of silence pasted between them.  
"Never." Erik assured finally, and while his tone was flat, and terribly sad, it held a certain strong sense of conviction, which sounded imperishable.


	19. A cappella

**Fears Within a Dream... **

"You need to get up now, Mademoiselle." A soft voice called to her, and upon such an instruction, Meg's eyes fluttered open. Her gaze did not shift to Erik, however, whom she knew to be somewhere to the right of her. The man had fallen silent shortly after the incident with Christine; she had offered some comfort to Erik before, by simply lying a hand on his shoulder, but the man dismissed her. And so, Meg left Erik to his intense mulling, left subtly hurt by his aloofness. It was not her place, however, to attempt to soften Erik, to crack past the wall, which he had so resolutely built between them.

It was strange, Meg mused, that Erik would be in a world, which seemed so determined to keep her here. She had experienced many delusions, or the like, whilst accompanying Erik in finding an escape route. And she had seen none of Erik's; he had always hindered her from such, and thus her imagination ran wild. "Mademoiselle?" Hearing the title repeated, Meg was pulled from her thoughts prematurely, feeling as if she had been on the verge of some important discovery. Slowly sitting up, the young woman's gaze rose to Erik. He was gazing down at her, emotionlessly, or so it seemed, for masks are incapable of displaying such. And in his eyes, Meg noted only fatigue. Frowning faintly, she stood, dusting off her dress. "Where are we to go now, Erik?" The question sounded laughable, as it passed from her lips, where else, but to wander? But suddenly, Meg caught a change in Erik's manner, and his weariness seemed to disappear, and he instead appeared excited.  
"Where, Mademoiselle? Can you not see? We are so close to home." Hearing Erik speak such, Meg's brow contorted, and it seemed that in a fraction of a second, the sun had shut off, the soft grain beneath her feet had turned to cobblestone. Mouth slightly agape, she turned away from Erik, and began to examine their position. Meg marked their location on a familiar boulevard, and she looked back to Erik with a smile. He seemed, for all she could tell, keyed up himself. "You see, Mademoiselle! I told you I would help you." Erik nodded, in childish triumph, but Meg hesitated suddenly.  
"But Erik...we had not done anything; are you sure this isn't just another illusion? It does not make sense..." Meg inquired, clearly unswayed, and she began to stroll from Erik, eyes narrowing, as she scrutinized the setting.  
"Has any of this made sense?" Erik responded, as if irritated with Meg's sensibility. "Come now, follow me, and we will see, then." With this instruction, he turned, and started forward at a quick pace.

Whilst following Erik, Meg began to note his odd manner. Erik appeared impatient, stifling eagerness, and periodically he murmured to himself. Silently, Meg believed she should not have left Erik to contemplate Christine's words alone, for she could only imagine what nonsense he had conquered up in his mind, to make him act so irrationally. Suppressing a sigh, she hurried to keep up with the masked man. Her own pace increased, however, upon gaining sight of the Opera Garnier, looming in the darkness, the beauty of its architecture hidden in the dark of the evening. "Do you believe now?" Erik inquired condescendingly, though he did not seem to be searching for an answer, for he only directed her to hurry. Ascending the staircase, under the middle arch, Erik pushed the duel doors open enough for himself to slip through. Meg followed suit, whilst Erik strolled into the foyer. Pulling the heavy doors closed, she wondered vaguely why they were not locked, before turning. Meg started subtly, finding Erik hardly a foot from her, swearing she had heard him walk off.  
"We are finished, now, Mademoiselle. We played wondrously." Erik spoke dulcetly, and paused for a moment, before stepping back, and furthering the distance between them. There was a moment of hesitation in his manner, before he continued. "Goodbye, Mademoiselle-"  
"Monsieur, wait." Meg cut the man off, before he could continue, and appeared, suddenly, angered. "I am telling you, Monsieur, this is not our Opera house." She quickly looked round, before motioning to indicate the large hall. "Look, Monsieur...since the "incident", we had lost patrons; the popularity of the Opera fell. But look at the condition of the Opera house, Monsieur! The marble is polished, the chandeliers dusted...it was not so, before I left." As she spoke, Erik had fallen extremely grim, and abruptly, glared as her.  
"It is how I had, Goodbye." He repeated sternly, though there was a strange hint of guilt to his tone, and as he turned, Erik exhaled a miserable sigh.  
"Erik, I just don't think-" Meg began, but Erik started forward, and ignored her, exiting to the main doors, to enter the dress circle of the theatre hall. "Wait!" Meg cried out, and stalked after Erik. "You are probably just falling into another trap, Monsieur! You are going to get yourself killed! I know you are tired, but really, it is not over, and you know it!" Speaking between breaths, Meg hastily jogged after Erik, as he manoeuvred smoothly before the Orchestra pit, and ascended the stairs to the stage. A distance behind him, Meg glowered after the man, as he yanked open the main trap door of the stage. "Why are you following me, Mademoiselle? I am done!" Erik snapped, before watching Meg hurry along, with an expression of sudden amusement. "Adieu, Mademoiselle, adieu!" Erik called, voice rounding, as he threw up his arm dramatically, then, rounding on the trapdoor, he dropped easily, and disappeared.  
"Ugh, Monsieur!" Meg exclaimed, stepping up the stairs, and marching across the stage, to the open trapdoor. "Monsieur!" Meg called again, glaring into the darkness. She seethed silently, as she imagined Erik believed he was through with her. Stubbornly, for her own good, and for Erik's, Meg slipped down to sit on the edge of the trapdoor, legs dangling into the darkness. What fear she might have, quelled by anger, and determination, Meg pushed off the edge, and falling into darkness, she braced herself for an impact.

Feeling as if she had collided with the floor, supine, Meg started, and groped the air frantically in front of her, searching for some way to stop herself from plummeting further. Though, in a short time, Meg realized she was no longer falling. Eyes opening warily, she sat up, and found herself seated on the floor. She appeared to be in a room, whose size was undeterminable, since the corners seemed to fade into blackness. There was no perceivable furniture, though perhaps there was beyond the darkness. A shuffling of papers caught her attention, and looking to the right, Meg's eyes widened in wonder. Taking up what she could see of the right wall, was a large organ, pipes glistening, and reaching to the roof, and at its bench, was Erik. He appeared seated as if he had been for hours before she had dropped, and he was not perturbed by her presence. The man went on, with slow, melancholy movements, sorting his music sheets, before his hands gently fell to the middle manual of the imposing instrument. "This is my home, Mademoiselle...I have never been happy, yet I do find my solace in this place. When I had wished for more, I risked what little I had...I was willing to give away everything for her." Erik paused, with a heavy breath, and lifted his eyes heavenward, almost wistfully. "My dexterity, my Opera house, my reason...and so, I risked the lives of all those who relied on my managing." Pleasant voice catching, Erik leaned against the console, gaze falling, and as his fingers played the keys, the music remained mute; and so Erik spoke, in a poignant, but melodious a cappella. "Your mother...you...my Opera house...my music..." Trailing, Erik suddenly slammed his hands down on the keys, and slumped forward on the bench, cringing in anger. "I deserved that one happiness! One! I don't know why I couldn't have it! I did everything wrong! So wrong!" Again, he beat his fists on the keys though suddenly withdrew with a sharp inhale, as if stricken, and he exhaled a mournful cry, giving the manuals of his organ an apologetic look. Then, Erik fell forward, against the massive instrument, and his shoulders shook. "I deserved this. It's all Erik's fault! Again, again, again..."

Gazing at Erik, with wide eyes, Meg was unsure how to respond to his frenzied behaviour as he continued ranting; it occurred to her that the world she was dragged into was not for her after all, but for Erik. Her mother had been the only one to care for Erik; the only one to reprimand her whenever she spewed the latest gossip; the box attendant who so praised the phantom, who would have her daughter be a baroness. She was only present to feed Erik's guilt, to give him something to attend to, and strive, fruitlessly, to protect, which was why, Meg gathered, the residents of the awful house wanted her present so desperately. Inhaling a breath, Meg began to move back from Erik, though she desired to make an attempt to calm him. She understood this would only make matters worse, however, so she continued her retreat, though Erik appeared none the wiser. Soon, his figure, the radiant pipes of the organ, began to fade into the blackness, which once had bordered them. Meg seemed to be entering into it with each backward step, though her eyes strained to make out Erik's being for as long as possible. Groping the air behind her, Meg vaguely searched for some object in the thick darkness, and quietly murmured the name of her companion. Then, Meg felt her hands brush cold metal, and then her back. She pushed back against the obstruction until it budged, and she found herself, abruptly, standing behind a tall, wrought iron gate, and from outside, she could still vaguely hear Erik. He called her name, murmured sorrowfully, and Meg suddenly cursed her departure and instead wanted nothing more than to push back through the gates, and locate the man.

With a dazed expression, gazing out on the vast ground before her, scattered with gravestones, and statues, Meg leaned back on her right heel, and made to pull the gate open. "Meg." An older woman called out firmly, distracting her, though Meg only inclined her head toward the voice.  
"Marguerite! Come along."Maman..." Meg trailed off, and feeling as if she had forgotten something terribly important, she looked toward her mother with a frown. Her small form shivered subtly, from a cool breeze, and she repositioned the asphodels in her hand. "Why do we not visit Papa's any longer?"

**End**

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Note: This was truly not a hurried ending. I quite enjoyed the way I had; it created a circle pattern. I do not enjoy leaving the reader with a sense of closure, because I am mean like that!Also, I do not offer an excuse for my long absense. XD It was really only because I was lazy. I believe I am going to take a break from fanfiction, and shift to fictionpress.  
My pen name is exactly the same, and I will be posting original work! I would love for you all to review my work there! 


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